


Foundations

by lifeofsnark



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: (not by Five), Aged-Up Five, Author wishes she’d taken more collegiate physics classes, Canon-Typical Violence, Cunnilingus, Domesticity, Eventually Resolved Sexual Tension, F/M, Fingering, Hargreeves family fic, Kidnapping, Multiverse Theory, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Pseudo-Incest, Season 3 Speculation, Slow Burn, Smut, bisexual vanya, it isn’t important I just wanted you to know, mentions of pregnacy in secondary character, p in v, they all live together heh heh heh, this is the equivalent of those Avengers Tower fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:35:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25961428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeofsnark/pseuds/lifeofsnark
Summary: “Here’s what happened,” said Five, popping down from the mezzanine to stand behind Vanya.  “We’re from 2019. A different 2019. This is clearly proof of the multiverse theory, but unfortunately none of that will matter to any of you. In our 2019, Vanya destroyed the world. We jumped back to 1963. While in 1963 we met Pops over there, and clearly altered enough history to rewrite our own futures. Now we’re here. Any questions?”“Yeah,” said one of the Sparrow Academy members. “What the hell do you want?”The Umbrella Academy members all looked at each other. “To go home,” said Allison quietly.OR: the one with all the Hargeeves living together in an old brownstone, sharing bathrooms, and saving the world. (And each other.) Five finally gets his aged up body, Vanya gets the boy, and they all have to get jobs.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 264
Kudos: 512





	1. Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting

Oh, don't give us none of your aggravation  
We’ve had it with your discipline  
Oh, Saturday night's alright for fighting  
Get a little action in.  
 _\--Elton John_

* * *

Maslow once said that when all you have is a hammer, everything begins to look like a nail. 

In other words, when two groups of superpowered humans have been raised to see everyone and everything as a threat, and have been conditioned to attack threats before the threats can attack them, a fight is mathematically inevitable. 

“Ben?” said Klaus, disbelief coloring his voice. 

Vanya looked at Ben, and her heart broke a little. Their Ben— her Ben— had only been truly gone for less than a day. And now here he was again, and he didn’t know them. 

“Number One,” said Reginald from behind them. 

Ben nodded sharply, and then all hell broke loose. 

“You have to stop Ben,” said Five, yanking Vanya around to look at him. “You’re the only one who could possibly hold him off.” And then Five had jumped away, tackling a blonde girl with shimmering force fields around her hands. 

Diego and Allison were fighting back to back, taking on a grinning Hispanic man and a pretty East Asian woman. Vanya didn’t know what his powers were, but the Sparrow Academy girl could make all the electrical appliances in the room fly towards Allison at top speed. 

“Vanya!” Five yelled, and she focused on Ben again, letting the sound of splintering furniture and fists hitting flesh echo in her head until she could feel them solidifying into that same overwhelming, destructive force that had taken her over before. 

Ben’s face twisted, and his fists clenched at his side, and Vanya knew from their training as children that she had only seconds until the Horror entered this dimension via her brother’s burst ribcage. 

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tried to direct a stream of her energy towards Ben. It struck him in the chest and he fell; Vanya didn’t track him quickly enough and caused a bookshelf of priceless artifacts to explode. 

Ben was getting back to his feet; she had to try again. She took a tentative step towards him, and then another, all the while listening to her family’s grunts and huffs of pain echoing in her head. It was so much harder like this, to let out only a tiny portion of the cacophony that was ringing in her head and dammed inside her belly. 

A tight beam of pure white light shot from her palms, and she directed them at Ben, knocking him back and then pressing him tight to the floor. His jaw was clenched in pain, and Vanya could feel tears pricking at her eyes because this was Ben, this was her softest brother, the one who would wink at her at dinner and let her hold his hand while they snuck out to Griddy’s. 

One of the blood vessels in his eyes burst, and Vanya could feel her knees starting to buckle: she wasn’t used to keeping a tether on her powers, she wasn’t used to having powers at all, and now she was using them in a situation that could mean life or death for the rest of her family. 

At some point (had it been minutes? hours?) Allison’s voice bellowed, “I heard a rumor that you were willing to listen to us!” 

Slowly the sound of fighting stopped, and Vanya let her hands drop. She slumped to the side, resting with her shoulder against the ripped cushion of the couch. 

“Number one,” Reginald barked, stepping back into the wrecked living room. “Get back up and-”

Allison spun on her heel and locked eyes with the man who had called himself their father. “I heard a rumor that for the rest of this conversation, you didn’t speak unless spoken to.”

His eyes bugged, but his mouth remained closed. 

“We don’t want to fight you,” said Klaus, shakily picking himself up from behind a shattered wing chair. “We don’t know you.”

The technology manipulator crossed her arms. “We were told that you want to replace us.”

“No,” said Luther, gingerly prodding at a bruise which was rapidly forming along his jaw. “We had no idea you’d even be here.”

“Here’s what happened,” said Five, popping down from the mezzanine to stand behind Vanya. He had a cut along one cheekbone, and his hair was damp with sweat, but otherwise he looked unhurt. “We’re from 2019. A different 2019. This is clearly proof of the multiverse theory, but unfortunately none of that will matter to any of you. In our 2019, Vanya destroyed the world. We jumped back to 1963. While in 1963 we met Pops over there, and clearly altered enough history to rewrite our own futures. Now we’re here. Any questions?” 

“Yeah,” said the Black guy with super speed. “What the hell do you want?” 

The Umbrella Academy members all looked at each other. “To go home,” said Allison quietly. “Our 2019. Our version of this mess.”

“We can’t help with that,” said the Hispanic man from his position against the far wall. “Sorry.”

“Why should we even believe you?” asked Five’s blonde opponent. Vanya was gratified to see that she had a cut lip, a black eye, and a swollen knuckle way out of place. 

Klaus dropped onto the torn sofa near Vanya’s head. “Because we  _ were  _ you. We know what it was like.”

Vanya took in a slow breath through her nose and felt the trembling leave her hands. When Luther’s heavy footfalls came up behind her she was only a little surprised when he scooped her up and set her on her feet. 

“Ben, when you were eight, you refused to eat meat that whole year! Dad started buying goats and pigs for the Horror to practice on and you’d come up from the basement looking like an extra in Carrie,” said Klaus, shuddering.

“Mom bought that fifty pound bag of lentils,” said Diego. 

“We called you the Great Legume,” said Allison, her voice gone soft. 

Ben’s eyes were flitting from person to person, and his chin had lost that stubborn set. He pushed himself to his knees, and one of his Sparrow Academy teammates came forward to prop him up. 

“Dad used to set the alarm off in the middle of the night,” said Vanya quietly. “He’d time how quickly you could get ready.” She remembered watching from her doorway as her siblings had scrambled into their uniforms with pillowcase creases still embedded in their cheeks. Sometimes mom would let her come down after to have hot chocolate in the kitchen. 

“When someone won one of the challenges, they had to have their reward in front of the others. While they watched,” said Luther heavily. 

“I still can’t stand the taste of tiramisu,” Klaus muttered. 

Vanya remembered that. He’d come first in their Latin exam, and Reginald had made him eat a slice of tiramisu at the teacher’s desk as the rest of them were forced to watch. He’d whimpered around every bite.

The Sparrow Academy kids were all looking at each other now, clearly wondering what they should do. 

“We don’t want your life,” said Diego, finality ringing in his voice. “We just want to get back to ours. So, truce?” 

“Truce,” said Ben, as the other Sparrow Academy soldiers nodded. 

“What can we do to help?” asked the technomancer. 

“Don’t come after us,” said Diego. “We promise, we’re fine without all this shit.”

“Cash,” said Five, ever practical. “It’s going to take some time until we figure out how to jump back to our timeline.”

“We should give them the brownstone,” said the blonde woman. “Let them stay there as long as they need to.”

Diego bristled at that; clearly not liking the idea of charity or living someplace so readily known to those who had attacked them ten minutes ago.

“Great,” said Five. “We’ll take it.”

The Black man zoomed off, and reappeared seconds later with a duffle bag in hand. 

“There,” he said, dropping it at Allison’s feet. “That should do it.”

She crouched, unzipped the bag, and everyone peered in at the jumbled stacks of hundreds. 

“Excellent,” said Five. “Guess we’ll head out. Good luck saving the world.”

The quietest of the Sparrows sneered at them. “Lafayette Street. House 22. You’ll know where the key is.”

“Thank you,” said Vanya quietly. 

“You know,” said Klaus, as they all turned towards the door. “We really should unionize. Like… The Hargreeves Union of Traumatized Children. We can rise up! No one can stop the revolution, baby!” 

Ben managed a quirked little smile at that. “I’m not sure we’re ready to rise up just yet.”

“You know where to find us!” said Klaus, and then they were out the door, and Luther’s big hand was warm against her back. 

“Well,” he said as they all blinked at the bright sunshine. “That could have gone better.”

“Multiverse, huh?” said Diego, glaring at Five. “Why is it that whenever we trust you, nothing goes right?”

“You want to see how far you get without me, Batboy? How about I drop you off in the seventeen hundreds and you find out.”

“Stop,” said Allison, stepping between the two of them. “This is not the time.”

“You’ve got that right,” said Klaus, swaying to his own internal beat. “Sparrow Academy. I didn’t even know dad liked birds.”

“He always had Pogo refill the bird feeder in the back,” said Luther, mostly under his breath. “Under the big oak tree.”

“I didn’t know that,” said Vanya. She’d assumed that she’d witnessed everything in the Umbrella Academy; hungry for information, even if acceptance had always remained just out of her reach.

“Doesn’t matter now,” said Five. “We need to get to that brownstone and make a plan. Alright?”

“Who put you in charge?” said Diego, apparently still itching for a fight. 

Five wheeled on him. “You have a better idea? Huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, whipping out one of his knives. “I could give you some motivation on getting us out of here!”

“Well, I want to go see our new digs,” said Klaus, wandering off down the sidewalk. “It feels like  _ forever  _ since I’ve gotten a proper night’s sleep. Being possessed just isn’t the same.”

“And I would like to put this giant bag in a safe place,” said Allison, keeping her voice low. 

As they started walking west through the city, Vanya found herself walking in the middle of the pack next to Five. “This is my fault, isn’t it?” she asked quietly, while Allison and Klaus loudly discussed whether or not a crepe counted as a sandwich. 

“You aren’t going to blame me too?” asked Five. “Smart girl.”

“I don’t know much about physics,” said Vanya. “Or the multiverse. But I figured… you wouldn’t have gone back if it wasn’t for me. And then I changed that timeline, too.”

Five shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. And this time we don’t have the end of the world breathing down our necks. Takes a few variables out of play, at least.”

“It’s not the end of the world  _ yet,”  _ said Diego. “We did bring Vanya with us.”

“Hey!” said Allison. “She did a really great job back there.”

“How _ did  _ you do that?” Luther asked Vanya. “You held the Horror inside of him.”

Vanya didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention; she wasn’t used to powers, and as they’d already established, two times out of three she couldn’t control them. “I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head so that her hair fell across her face. “I almost didn’t. But I knew if I messed up, you guys would die.”

“Huh,” said Klaus. 

“Didn’t stop you last time,” muttered Diego. 

“She’s practiced,” said Klaus, as though sending out a massive shockwave and sucking her own power out of Harlan counted as practice. 

“You did great,” said Luther, as they waited for a WALK sign to turn green. 

“Thanks. Allison was the real hero. It was a great rumor.”

“It felt pretty good,” Allison admitted. “I didn’t use any rumors in Dallas until you guys showed up.”

“Wow,” said Klaus. “And you still ended up with a total hottie.”

“I wanted to know that I’d earned it,” she said quietly. “I guess today it was just the right thing to do. Like Vanya said.”

It was still so odd to be included, to hear her name come up in casual conversation and not immediately expect some sort of retaliation. 

“I knew I was doing it for you guys, and not myself,” said Allison thoughtfully. 

They continued on like that, swapping stories about Dallas, or the Commission, or nothing much at all, until they’d walked most of the way across the city and had arrived outside of 22 Lafayette Street. 

The brownstone was old, that much was clear. The brick had faded from deep red to time softened brown-orange, and had begun to crumble where ivy had taken root. The steps had been worn smooth by generations of feet, and the building itself soared up above the sidewalk. Vanya counted five rows of windows, and craned her neck to see the top. 

“I guess we should look for the key,” said Diego, opening the creaking gate into the little front garden. The grass was neatly clipped, but it didn’t look like the flowers had been tended for a while. 

22 was at the end of the row, and after poking around on the stoop and in the front, the six of them trooped through the little narrow alley to get to the back of the building. 

“Now this looks more like it,” said Klaus, looking up at an obsidian-black statue of their father. He was decades younger here, holding a fencing foil with one hand and his monocle with the other. 

“You know,” said Diego thoughtfully as they all looked up at this effigy of Reginald Hargeeves, “We should have known how he would end up. Has anyone heard of a monocle-wearer that  _ didn’t  _ end up evil?” 

“It’s not like we knew any other adults,” said Allison. “For all we knew, monocles could have been the latest in gentlemen’s fashion.”

“Yeah,” said Klaus, kicking the base of the statue. “For vampires.”

“Let’s look for the key,” said Luther, moving onto the little patio at the base of the back steps. “It’s getting cold.”

“Do we know what day it is?” Diego asked, lifting up some empty flower pots. 

“It was supposed to be April, 2019. The day after the apocalypse,” said Five, still looking up at the statue. 

“Yeah, well, it was also supposed to be our timeline,” said Diego sharply. 

“Are you guys done looking yet?” Five asked, jamming his hands down in the pockets of his shorts. 

“You know where the key is?” asked Luther. 

“It’s here,” said Five, nodding towards the statue. “Obviously.”

“What do you mean,  _ obviously?”  _ asked Allison.

“Dad would hide a key somewhere that only someone with powers could retrieve it.”

Allison grimaced. “I think he’s right.”

“Of course I’m right,” said Five, clearly losing his patience. “My problem is that I have to spend half my time convincing the  _ rest  _ of you that I’m right.” 

“Calm down,” said Luther, rolling his shoulders. “Once I get this thing up, one of you be prepared to grab it.”

“I’ll do it,” said Vanya, stepping forward. (God, it wasn’t fair that even though Five was only thirteen, she was still the littlest.)

Luther sighed, crouched, and hooked his fingers under the base of the life-sized statue. At first nothing happened. His jaw set, the concrete creaked, and then in a lurch and a bunching of his muscles Luther rocked the statue back on its base. 

Vanya darted forward, falling heavily to her knees, and snatched out the gently glinting key. 

“Alright,” she said quickly, scrambling back. “You can drop it.”

As one, the siblings looked up at Luther’s face, set and red. 

With a heave he shoved the statue over backwards, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Reginald fell with a crash, the smooth granite cracking in half along the chest. For a moment everyone was still, staring open mouthed at Luther’s biggest rebellion to date. 

“How the mighty fall,” said Allison, blinking. 

“Nice,” said Five, scuffing his foot along the ground. “I didn’t think you had it in you. 

Vanya blinked and took a closer look— he was still wearing those fucking bowling shoes. She hadn’t realized. What had been an idyllic six weeks (give or take attacks from Swedish brothers and the FBI) for her had been back-to-back apocalypses for Five. No wonder his temper was short. 

Well. Shorter than usual. 

Klaus kicked the fallen statue, Diego rolled his eyes, and that seemed to be the end of that. 

“Hey,” said Vanya, tapping Luther on the arm. “Here.” She dropped the key into his gloved palm, and he looked at her for a long second before looking up at her. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly. 

“I just… well, you’re the only one who never really left. This is your first place.”

“Yeah,” said Klaus, slinging an arm around Luther’s waist and leaning into his side. “And you get to live with all of us! Yay you!”

“I’m not staying here,” said Diego as he followed Luther up the low back steps. “I had seventeen years living with you idiots.”

“We have to stay together,” said Five, and Vanya could hear the brittle, end-of-his-rope quality in his voice. “Didn’t you learn anything after your stint in the 60s?”

“You know why we were all stuck in the sixties, little man?” Diego asked, rounding on Five. 

He jumped to the top step and loomed over Diego. “Yeah,” he said. “Because you were too foolish—” 

“Stop,” said Luther, picking up Five under the arms and dropping him down on the other side of the landing. Five snarled at him, and Luther leaned down close to Five’s face. “Wait until we’re inside,” he said. “We can talk about it then.”

Five looked past Luther at Diego, who had a contemptuous eyebrow raised. 

“It’s kinda cold out here, guys,” said Allison. It was: night had fallen as they’d searched for the key, and Vanya could just make out the glow of streetlights on the other side of the little garden’s fence. 

That put a stop to the display of toxic masculinity unfolding on the steps. Luther opened the back door, and the remnants of the Umbrella Academy trooped into the dark kitchen. 

“Nice,” said Allison, flipping on the lights.

The space was long and narrow, like all of these old row houses. The kitchen flooring was black and white tile, but the cabinets and countertops had been upgraded sometime in the last few years. A battered table ran the length of the room, which bled into stairs, a small bathroom, the formal dining room, and the little front foyer. 

“He’s  _ really  _ into sparrows,” said Klaus, slowly turning a circle inside the space. “I feel like Tippi Hedren.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna attack you, bro,” said Diego drily. 

“We’ll have to get a grocery list together,” said Allison, plunking the duffle bag of cash down on the table. “Make a plan.”

“Great,” said Five, looking speculatively up the stairs. “You guys take care of that, and I’ll start figuring out how we can jump across bifurcated timelines.” 

“Shouldn’t we, like- pick bedrooms?” said Klaus, sauntering to the stairs. 

All of them eyed the stairs as one. 

“Do you think there are enough bedrooms?” Allison asked.

Klaus bolted up the stairs, and the rest thundered after. 

“You wanna fuck with them?” asked Five, holding out his hand to Vanya. He looked— well, he looked like the Five she remembered. The brother who always found a minute to spare for her, the one who’d made her feel, if not special, at least like a  _ person.  _

“Yeah,” she said, setting her hand in his. 

She felt the pressure of a jump, the disorientation of the landing (though he’d gotten so much better since he was originally thirteen) and then they were standing in the middle of a long hallway, listening to their siblings thundering on the stairs. 

“You cheated!” said Diego when he appeared, red-faced, at the top.

“I adapted,” smirked Five. 

“It was two flights,” said Allison, pushing past Klaus. “There’s a library and a parlor on the second level.”

“Two bedrooms here,” said Diego, opening identical doors. “Bathroom in the middle.”

“Great,” said Allison, walking into the one that overlooked the back garden. “I”ll stay here.”

“I can’t share a bathroom with her,” said Klaus, already heading back up the winding central staircase. “Great taste in makeup, but I think there should be a “only one queen per bathroom” rule, you know?” 

Allison blew him a kiss. 

In the end, Diego ended up on the third floor with Allison. The fourth floor was identical: two bedrooms with a bathroom between. Luther and Klaus took those. 

“There’s an attic!” said Klaus, looking at the little ladder. “Let’s check it out, Van, c’mon.”

Vanya and Five obligingly followed him up the sturdy ladder.

The space was small, and the ceiling slanted oddly in a few places, but oh— there were windows on each side, and the floors were bare wide-planked wood, and it was the opposite of that terrible chamber beneath Hargreeves manor. 

“I doubt it exists in this timeline,” said Five, looking around the space. He’d always been able to follow her train of thought with an eerie precision. “Nobody would have needed it.”

“You could take this space,” said Vanya, fiddling with the hem of her long shirt. “Lots of ceiling for you to write on.”

Five shrugged. “I’ll take the library. Move some stuff around, put a cot in the corner. It’ll be fine. I won’t be here much, anyway.”

“Big plans?” asked Klaus. “Oh my god, do we need to enroll you in high school.”

Five glared at Klaus, but didn’t bother to dignify that with a reply. “I’ll be working on getting us out of here. I have some ideas for outside help.”

“Can I help?” asked Vanya. 

Five glanced at her, that half-smile he’d always saved for her toying at his lips. “Yeah,” he said. “Don’t get angry.”

~~~

They reconvened the next morning for breakfast. Luther, a creature of routine, had apparently risen with the sun, gone out, and acquired coffee and breakfast sandwiches. When he’d gotten back and  _ still  _ been the only one awake, he took matters into his own hands. 

“I don’t know why this couldn’t wait,” said Klaus groggily, shredding a croissant crumb between his fingers. “The world isn’t ending again, is it? Am I the last to know again?”

“No,” said Luther, pouring himself another cup of black coffee out of the insulated cardboard box it had come in. “But we’ll be busy today.”

“With what?” asked Diego, pawing through the pile of boxes to take another handful of hashbrowns. 

“Giving you a haircut, to start,” said Allison. 

“I’m not letting you anywhere near my head with scissors,” said Diego, his mouth full of potato. 

“I worked in a hairdresser’s shop for a year,” said Allison. “I can manage the basic white boy fade.”

“You think I’m basic?” Diego asked through a smile. 

“Focus,” said Five, drumming his fingers on the side of the coffee box he’d claimed for himself. 

Vanya had honestly assumed that he was going to drink it right out of the spout, but he’d used a mug after all. By her count, he was almost finished with his fourth cup of the morning. Thus far it hadn’t had any noticeable effect on him, other than giving him something to do with his hands. 

“You ready to tell us what you were talking about last night?” Diego called from the other end of the kitchen table. 

“Yeah,” Five shot back. “Not that I expect you to understand any of it.

“Try me,” said Diego. 

Luther sighed, and looked longingly at another sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit. 

“The multiverse?” Allison prompted. 

“This proves the multiverse,” said Five. “The universe itself comprises everything that exists. That’s simple enough. The multiverse theory postulates that somewhere, everything that  _ could  _ exist  _ does  _ exist. The ripple effect writ out large. That means,” said Five, shooting a poisonous look at Diego, “That somewhere there’s a universe where you aren’t an asshole.”

“Say that again,” said Diego, shoving his chair back from the table. 

“Stop it, both of you,” said Allison. “So when we went back to the sixties, we changed things and created a parallel universe.”

“Yes,” said Five. “This has to be running the Commission overtime. Do they have a branch in every universe? Or are they split now, too? Is there a universe where the Lusitania doesn’t sink?” 

He was getting rattled now, sloshing the coffee out of the mug he was still holding. 

Vanya leaned across the table towards him. “Hey,” she said quietly. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

He stilled. “Well. Not always.”

“You did make it back,” said Klaus. “A little late, but better than never, isn’t that right?”

Five took a deep breath. “I’ve jumped through time, with varying levels of success. Spatially… not much is a problem. The problem with being in the wrong branch of the multiverse is that it isn’t through space _ or  _ time. It’s both. It’s through… every option of every decision of every person who has ever potentially lived.”

“Wow,” said Klaus. “That’s a  _ lot. _ ”

“The multiverse hasn’t ever been mathematically proven,” said Five. “Now that we know it’s real I can remove some variables, but the calculations—” 

“Let us know what you need,” said Luther. “Well get it for you.”

“Peace,” said Five, casting a look at Diego. “Food. Coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.”

“We can do that,” said Luther. 

“What else?” asked Allison. 

Five sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. For a moment Vanya wished that it was just the two of them again, that she could play her violin until the worried furrows between his brows smoothed out. But they couldn’t go back to that. They weren’t children any more, not even Five, and their problems had grown far beyond Hargreeves Manor. 

“We can’t do anything crazy here,” said Five. “Or everything will splinter even further. We need to stay together, to keep our heads down, and stay  _ out  _ of major world events.”

“So. We’re all living together… permanently?” asked Klaus. “Oh, this is a disaster. What if that’s what sets off Vanya and she ends the world here?”

“I’m fine, guys,” said Vanya, clenching her hands together under the table. 

“How long do you think this will take?” Diego asked. 

Five shrugged. “A few months, at least,” he said. “Barring the end of the world.”

“Do we have enough cash to last us until then?” Klaus asked, eyeing the duffle. “We’re going to need, like... clothes, and I can’t sleep without the sound of wooden flutes—” 

“Ha!” said Diego, pointing at Klaus and Luther. “You’re going to have to get  _ jobs.” _

“I had a job,” said Klaus, waving his hand arily. “I was an inspiration speaker, yoga instructor—”

“Cult leader,” said Allison. “That does  _ not  _ count.”

“What would we do?” asked Luther, looking dazed. 

Five huffed out a breath. “Don’t know. Don’t care. But, uh— one other thing. Theoretically, other versions of us exist in this universe. If we were never bought by pops, we never formed the Umbrella Academy.  _ Do not  _ look into them. Don’t google yourself. Don’t meet for coffee. It would pretty much guarantee the end of the world.”

Vanya looked down the table at her siblings. They looked shocked, caught in the spiral of  _ what if?  _

_What if I was raised in the suburbs? What if I’m boring? What if I was_ **normal** _._

“So there’s no Claire,” said Allison quietly. 

“No,” said Five, and his voice was solemn. “Not until we get back.”


	2. Dear Future Self

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Previously on Foundations:_  
>  The Hargreeves gang find themselves back in 2019: the wrong 2019. After establishing a truce with their father’s Sparrow Academy, the Umbrella Academy settles into an old brownstone, where they can stay while Five tries to sort out the multiverse math. They have to stay together and keep their heads down, or the whole multiverse could split all over again. At least this time there’s not an apocalypse… right?

Dear future self, I hope it's going well  
I'm drunk on cheap whiskey in an airport hotel, yeah  
Hands up, ready for the boom  
Never mind the rocket launcher, talking 'bout a tune  
You can hear us coming with the zoom  
Listen to the "boom, boom," we are breaking through.  
\-- _Fall Out Boy_

* * *

“You need to pick different last names,” said Digger, looking at them over the bank of computer monitors in front of him. 

“How do you know this guy?” Luther asked Klaus without taking his eyes off the man in front of them. 

“Everyone knows Digger!” said Klaus happily. “You need papers, he’s got ‘em. They look real good too, totally legit.”

“I don’t know you,” said Digger flatly. He was thin, with greying hair, pale skin, and a calculating look that told Vanya he could probably guess not only their ages, but also their browser histories and net income. 

“Oh, that’s right,” said Klaus, twirling the end of his borrowed Sparrow Academy scarf. “I’m Klaus. These are—” 

“Clients,” said Allison firmly, cutting him off. “We need papers.”

“What type?” asked Digger, narrowing his eyes. 

“The works,” said Five, perching on the back of the swaybacked couch. “Licenses, certifications, credit histories. We need to exist past a surficial search.”

“Of course,” said Digger. “You can pay?” 

“Yep,” said Diego, spinning a knife between his fingers. 

Digger named a sum that would eat up most of the cash they’d been given by the Sparrow Academy. 

“Fine,” said Five. “Let’s get on with it. I have places to be.”

The family had gone into the walk-up apartment as Hargreeves. They came out as:

Luther Armstrong (“He went to the moon, too. And, you know. The obvious. Well, it’s better than King Kong!”) age 30, licenced earth science teacher and boxing coach. 

Diego Engracia (“Mom gave me my first name, so I guess I’ll take hers.”) 29, private investigator and bounty hunter. 

Allison Chestnut (“It’s already my name!”), 31, hairdresser and beautician. 

Klaus Cooper (“Nobody said I  _ couldn’t  _ be Alice Cooper’s son!”), 33, licensed yoga instructor and massage therapist. 

Five Pilgrim (“None of you know Vonnegut? Read a fucking book.”)(58?), legally emancipated minor. 

Vanya Johnson (“It sounded so… normal.”), 29, and… 

“I don’t know what to do,” said Vanya, feeling panic tightening in her throat. Part of her still reached for her pocket out of habit; muscle memory overriding her thankfulness that the pills were gone. “I’ve never— the violin, but that probably isn’t a good idea—” 

“We’ll figure it out,” said Allison, taking Vanya’s hand in hers. “Can we IOU the last form?” she asked Digger.

“Sure. Email me at this address when you figure it out. Don’t try to email it again, because the account won’t exist. Got it?” he said, passing over a sticky note with a scrawled email address. It was a nonsense jumble of letters and numbers.

Vanya nodded. 

“Great. I’ll have the IDs and stuff ready for you by tomorrow night, Tuesday at the latest. I’ll courier them over. Bye. Forget you ever saw me.” 

“Right,” said Allison as they trooped out onto the sidewalk. “Next: grocery shopping.”

“And then clothes?” asked Klaus hopefully. “I know this great little place—” 

Vanya saw Diego’s whole face go pinched. He’d made an effort to keep the peace up to this point, but asking him to shop with Klaus was probably an insurmountable task. “Maybe we could do that tomorrow?” she said. “You, and me, and Allison. We can pick up some jeans or whatever for the boys.”

Diego reached over, cupped Vanya’s face, and smacked a loud kiss to her forehead. “Bless you, sis.” 

She was sure her face mirrored the same shock as everyone else’s. This was possibly the first time in nearly thirty years that he’d reached out to initiate friendly, non-violent contact with her. 

“What?” he asked, looking around. “I remember what Klaus was like in the gift shop of the Natural History Museum!”

“The  _ gemstones,”  _ said Klaus dreamily. “Such good energy.”

“That works for me,” said Allison, setting off down the sidewalk. “Girls day, tomorrow.”

~~~

They went grocery shopping. Vanya didn’t think she’d laughed so much in her life.

~~~

When she staggered up three flights of stairs and a ladder into her bedroom, Five was waiting for her, perched on the edge of her bed. 

“God,” said Vanya. “What is with you?” There was a small, straight-backed wooden chair in the corner, but Vanya decided to just fuck it and sit on the bed next to Five. It was her room, after all. 

He turned to face her. “Why Johnson?” 

He always did cut to the chase. “It seemed… normal. The most normal name I could think of.”

Five looked at her levelly. “But you aren’t.”

“Yeah, I kinda… I got that. What are you saying?  _ Be careful what you wish for?”  _ She couldn’t help the bitterness in her voice. 

“No,” Five scoffed. “Wishes are foolish. I think you need to start training.”

“Yeah?” said Vanya, slouching back onto her pillows and tucking her feet up under her. “The others look at me sideways if I sneeze. Luther almost fell out of his chair at breakfast,” she snickered. 

“He’ll get over it,” said Five, sounding as unshakeable as ever. “Especially if you learn to control it better.”

“It starts with all the noise,” said Vanya absently, picking at a cuticle. “It feels… like my body is a dam. I can ignore the power, hold it back, but one little fissure could bring the whole thing down and drown me.”

“Hmm. There’s a part of you that wants to go under,” said Five, insightful as ever. 

Vanya glanced over at him, half expecting to see judgement in his eyes. Of course there wasn’t: this was Five, (this was  _ Five! _ ), the only person she’d trusted to listen to her back when they were both small and trying to survive their childhoods. 

“It would be so much easier,” said Vanya quietly. “Because the sound grows, and then I can feel it… pulsing, almost, inside my ribcage. And in that moment, it feels… good.”

“Your chest glows,” said Five matter-of-factly. “When you’re powered up.”

Vanya rubbed a hand over her breastbone. “It’s like… like trying to pick up an egg with a forklift.” 

“Blunt force. Got it. We can start with that, with refining your control and building up your endurance.”

He wasn’t wrong. He rarely was. “Are we going to build a soundproof room in the cellar where I can practice?” She said it lightly, but her heart rate had already started to accelerate, and her fists had clenched, her nails digging into her palms. 

Five picked up one of her hands and started to work her fingers open. “No, of course not. We’ll start with small stuff. Like you did with the old man, blowing up the fruit. That was well-done, by the way.”

Vanya managed a real smile at that memory: dad’s horror at his sticky suit, Luther’s surprise, and Klaus’ shit-eating grin. “In retrospect, that probably had something to do with him unadopting all of us.”

“I knew it was a risk,” said Five. “But I thought approaching him might be key in getting us back to 2019.”

“We got here in the end. We're together, and nobody is trying to kill us.”

“I know,” said Five, frowning. “That still feels wrong.”

“That nobody wants to kill us?”

“Someone has wanted us dead since dad unveiled the Umbrella Academy. Trust me, this is the aberration.”

“That’s fucked up.”

For a long moment, they sat in silence as the light went golden and syrupy, dropping nearly behind the false-horizon of the city. 

“You’re not afraid of me,” said Vanya quietly, still looking out the arched window to the back garden. 

There had been an odd tension between her and Five since that showdown in the road between Dallas and Sissy’s farm. He’d come to help Harlan, but— “I threatened you with my powers, and you got in my face.”

Five made that near-silent huffing noise that always meant he was nearing the end of his patience, and was tired of having to explain simple concepts to everyone else. “Of course I’m not afraid of you.”

“Maybe you should be,” said Vanya. “You didn’t see what I did to those FBI agents.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me,” said Five, confidence resolute. “I’m your favorite. Besides, I’d planned to jump you to the tundra and leave you there until you cooled down.”

Vanya laughed at that, at his shameless arrogance and concrete faith in himself. “That’s not a bad plan.”

“Does that make you more willing to train?” Five asked, lifting a brow. “If I promise to abandon you in an uninhabited corner of the world?”

“Yeah,” said Vanya, uncurling a little bit. “It really does.”

“Good,” said Five. He glanced down at Vanya’s hand, where she’d picked at her cuticle until it had started to bleed. As casual as anything, he stuck her finger in his mouth, curled his tongue around it, and dropped her hand back in his lap. 

“Then we’ll start tonight,” he said, and jumped away, leaving Vanya with a damp finger, a nervous stomach, and more questions that she’d had before.

~~~

They started training after dinner. 

Allison and Klaus cooked, so Luther and Diego caught dish duty. Five and Vanya slipped out into the backyard while One and Two fought about the proper dishwashing technique. (“It’s more environmentally friendly to fill the sink up with soapy water and wash them like that!” “Fuck the environment, the dishes will just be sitting in germ water!”) 

“I think we should start with some blocking exercises,” said Five, standing with Vanya in the center of the patio. “Passive, non-directional energy. It’ll help you learn to grab it, and build up your endurance.”

“I’ve never tried to do that before,” said Vanya, trying not to think of the things she  _ had _ successfully used her powers for.

“I’m sure you can do it,” said Five, and then he threw a pebble at her. 

“Hey!” said Vanya, more out of surprise than any small pain.

“Block it,” said Five, and then he threw another.

Vanya felt a third pebble bounce off her stomach as she closed her eyes and listened to the city. Cars rumbled by on the street out front. A dog was barking off in the distance. She could faintly hear Luther and Diego arguing through the kitchen window… and like a fish stirring in deep water, her power began to grow. 

A now-familiar burning sensation built up behind her breastbone, but Vanya felt another pebble ping off her thigh. She pictured a shield in front of her, a screen which nothing could penetrate, and tried to send her power out like that— 

And succeeded in knocking Five on his ass as her powers emanated from her in a small shockwave, just as Allison and Klaus trooped out of the house. 

“Vanya!” said Allison sharply, and her tone of voice was more than enough to convince Vanya that whatever the universe, Allison was a  _ mom.  _

“I’m sorry!” she said automatically, hurrying forward to pull Five to his feet. 

“Maybe we should, like, work on meditation,” said Klaus as Five brushed himself off. “Ooh, or we could get you a really big bag of weed. What? It’s  _ medicinal. _ ”

“Stop,” said Five. “Vanya and I are training. There are bound to be some mistakes.”

“Oh,” said Allison. 

“That was pretty good,” said Five, turning back to Vanya. “You held the shield for two pebbles.”

“Could you see it?” asked Vanya. 

“Kind of,” said Five. “You know how the air shimmers over a hot parking lot?” 

Everyone nodded. 

“Let’s try again,” said Five, gathering more stones to throw. 

Allison and Klaus settled on the steps, occasionally calling out praise or encouragement as Vanya manifested and dropped the energy shield over and over again.

“That was four minutes,” said Allison as Vanya lowered her shaky arms nearly an hour later. 

She’d been distracted by Diego and Luther coming out to see what was going on. Her head was pounding, her chest ached, and she felt like a  _ fool.  _

“I don’t know why this is so hard,” she said, scuffing her shoe along the stone pavers of the patio. “I destroyed the  _ entire world,  _ and I can’t hold an energy field for five minutes.” 

“It’s the difference between jogging down a hill, or rolling down it on your ass,” said Five ruthlessly. “Control is harder. C’mon, one more time.”

Vanya’s head was throbbing, and it was on the tip of her tongue to refuse. That morning she’d had adrenaline to fuel her. Now she was tired and frustrated and the city was loud, so loud. The blare of someone’s car horn echoed through the neighborhood. A cat was meowing in an alley… she could hear the roots of the big maple tree tunneling slowly through the cool, moist spring soil. She could hear the throb of her sibling’s pulses, could hear the way her own clothes rasped against her skin—

“Vanya!” It was Five’s calm, commanding voice that cut through the rest of the noise. It cut off like a muted TV, and the ache in her chest slowly faded away. 

With the exception of Five, her siblings were gathered at the base of the stairs, looking at her with wide eyes. 

“What did I do?” Vanya asked dully. She couldn’t quite remember those times when she went supernova. Of course, that wasn’t helped by the fact that the FBI had laced her with LSD. 

“You were starting to float,” said Allison, clearly trying to keep her cool. 

“We pushed too far,” said Five calmly, dropping his handful of pebbles and bushing his palm off on his shorts. 

“I know,” snapped Vanya, rubbing her forehead. 

“You’ll get better,” said Luther. 

“What if I don’t?” asked Vanya, her frustrating snapping like a wishbone. (All she was left holding was a handful of shards and childish hopes.) “What if I don’t get better? What if this is all I am, the doomsday girl, the one who is always the bomb. What if I’m useless to you until the very last minute, and then we have to hope I don’t destroy the world while trying to save our lives?” 

“You’ll—” Diego started, but Vanya had had enough. 

“I  _ brought Harlan back from the dead,”  _ said Vanya, and now she could hear the hysteria in her own voice. “And I don’t know how I did it! I don’t know anything about my powers. I’m afraid of them! And you’re afraid of me, too! Don’t even deny it,” she said as Klaus opened his mouth to protest. “I know you are.”

“It gets easier,” said Luther quietly. “Knowing what you can do. What you are.”

_ Yeah. He would fucking know.  _ “You have always had each other,” said Vanya, and her voice was catching now, rasping around the tears she could feel pricking in her eyes and thickening her throat. “You’ve always had each other, even when everything else was horrible. I had my music,” she said, and her fingers  _ ached  _ for the rough rasp of violin strings. “And I can’t have that any more.”

And Sissy, who she had loved, was out of reach forever now. Sissy,  _ who she had loved _ , had been using her as a distraction from her quiet life and horrible husband. 

Vanya sank to her knees and closed her eyes. It was grief; a roaring, numbing grief that she had been feeling for the last two days. 

(For the last thirty odd years.) 

She’d been the ordinary one, the sister not worth her siblings’ time, the secret of the family. And that had  _ all  _ been a lie; the foundations of her identity had been shattered along with the moon. 

And then, before she’d discovered who she could be inside the arms of her family, she’d been  _ nobody.  _ She’d spent two months as the girl no one looked for. Two months orbiting a nuclear family that would never accept her into the center. 

And then in an FBI chair, with electrodes on her temples and psychedelics coursing through her veins, all her shames and shattered hopes had been poured back into her. Vanya wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to hold them all inside this time. 

As Vanya wept, with her tears hot on her face and the cold cement hard against her knees and her own gasping breath echoing in her ears, she knew she could rip the continents apart like jigsaw pieces. She could shake the foundations of the world, but she couldn’t keep a shield up long enough to keep her family safe. 

Five’s fingers sank into the hair at the nape of Vanya’s neck and stayed there, gently tethering her to this place, in this time, with a fistful of her hair. She could see his shoes and socks and knobby knees out of the corner of her eye, and maybe that was the same too. Then and now, and maybe in the places in between, Five had been the one to understand what she needed. 

Perhaps their brother’s gesture was taken as permission by the rest of the family, because between one breath and the next Vanya found herself surrounded. Klaus cuddled up to one side, Allison held Vanya’s hands, and Luther’s heavy palm smoothed once or twice over her back. Diego’s coat found its way over her shoulders, even though she could see him pacing a few feet away. 

“Sorry, guys,” Vanya mumbled thickly when she thought she could manage to speak without breaking down again. 

“It’s fine,” said Klaus, pressing his bony shoulder more firmly into her side. 

“I’m really not doing a great job convincing you I won’t destroy the world, huh?” Vanya asked, swiping a hand over her sticky face. 

“I don’t know,” said Allison thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t have done this when you were on those pills. Maybe it’s better this way, to actually… express yourself.”

For a moment it was quiet (or as quiet as a city ever got). Vanya could only hear things that everyone else could hear, and her heart rate slowly dropped back to normal. 

“There are a lot of things I regret,” said Luther slowly. “And until recently— until our 2019, I guess— I would have had an easy answer for the thing I regretted the most. But Vanya, whatever comes next, I think I’ll hate what I did to you the most.

“Not because I was Number One, or the leader. Because you’re my sister.” 

“What he said,” Diego mumbled.

“Thanks guys,” said Vanya on a half-laugh. “But I think I’m okay now.”

“Good,” said Klaus, smacking a messy kiss to her cheek before popping to his feet. “It’s freezing. Anybody want some tea?”

“Coffee,” said Five, lightly scraping his nails across Vanya’s scalp before pulling his hand from her hair. 

Luther carefully pulled Vanya to her feet, and Allison gave her a hug. “I’m really proud of you,” she said, giving Vanya’s hands a squeeze. “You are so strong.”

Five saved her from having to accept any more compliments. “Want a lift back up to your room?”

Vanya nodded gratefully, and then she was back in her dark room, chilled and exhausted and hollowed out by her crying jag… but strangely at peace. The dam that had threatened to drown her only minutes ago had been shored up, and the reservoir behind it was smooth and calm.

“You can tell me no, when it gets to be too much,” said Five, shoving his hands down in his pockets and giving her a neutral look.

“Tell you no?” asked Vanya, kicking off her shoes and sinking down on her bed. “Does that sound like me?”

“Well,” said Five, leaning forward and giving her a little smirk. “You’ll have to start sometime.”


	3. Here I Go Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Previously on Foundations:_  
>  The Hargreeves buy themselves new names and identities. Five and Vanya clear the air between them: he isn’t afraid of her, and if he thinks she’s going to go nuclear, he’ll drop her in a quiet, unoccupied part of the planet. This gives Vanya the confidence to start training with her powers.  
> While training, she pushes herself too far and realizes that the painful, prickling numbness she’s been feeling is grief. Vanya cries it out, is comforted by the family, and resolves to start fresh.

And here I go again on my own  
Goin' down the only road I've ever known  
Like a drifter, I was born to walk alone  
And I've made up my mind  
I ain't wasting no more time  
\-- _Whitesnake_

* * *

Five woke with a crick in his neck, chalk on his fingers, and lingering dream images of smooth, pale skin and long, dark hair. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled, and then jumped down to the kitchen level. He had a piss, admitting to himself that there were benefits to a younger body that had never suffered from malnutrition (even if it was only 13), before digging out the canister of super-bulk coffee grounds he’d picked out at the grocery store. 

When he’d been an active member of the Commission, this had been his favorite part of the day: the few minutes of _coffee in potentia,_ while the air was soft and new and slowly warming with the smell of hot, black caffeine. The house slumbered around him, and Five allowed himself a brief moment of congratulations. 

He hadn’t stranded his family in an ice age, or an apocalypse. They were all alive (well, the same number that had been alive in their first 2019), they were together, and they were more or less whole. Things had been worse, that was for fucking sure. 

With one hand holding a mug, and the other holding the full carafe, Five jumped back up to the library. After he’d left Vanya for the night, he’d rearranged the library and gone out for the supplies he’d needed. Now the prettily wood-paneled room had a tension cot shoved in one of the corners. He’d borrowed some theoretical physics research from the closest Ivy League university, acquired an up-to-date laptop, and started in with his usual chalk scrawl on one of the now-artwork-free walls. 

The way he saw it, the family had three options.

The first was the least satisfactory: they could suck it up and stay. Eventually Reginald would egg the Sparrow Academy into launching another attack, but they could cross that bridge when they got there. This was a 2019 without an apocalypse, and they could all work to keep it that way. 

Second: he could go it alone, which… yeah, it was fucking tempting. The first forty-odd years of his life had been an extended lesson in self-sufficiency, and he’d done just fine. (If falling in love with a mannequin, getting scurvy, and existing in a state of constant fight-or-flight arousal could be counted as fine.)

The third option was the trickiest. Obviously it was the best. 

And wasn’t it just his fucking luck: it involved the Commission. 

Pros: he had skills they desperately needed. Their field agents had all been decimated by Vanya, their leadership was gone, and now they were dealing with a truncated timeline. 

Cons: they would know what he was up to. He _hated_ having people looking over his shoulder. 

“Shit,” he mumbled, looking over the notes he’d scrawled in the margins of an over-confident physicist’s thesis. He’d done terrible things for the sake of his family. What were a few more drops in the ocean of blood he’d already spilled? 

He didn’t have to like it. 

(He didn’t have to like it, but sometimes… oh sometimes, he did.)

~~~

Five had just hacked into the government contractor’s internal servers when Dot showed up. “Hello, Mr. Five,” she said brightly, dusting off the top of an ancient work desk before perching on the edge. She had those same cat-eyed glasses, a briefcase, and an A-line seersucker dress. 

“Dot,” said Five, scrolling through databases and code repositories. “You’re looking well.”

“Oh, you,” said Dot, smiling her bright white smile. 

“I didn’t expect you,” said Five, swiveling his chair towards Dot. 

“Well, case management did want to send an agent, but I thought it would probably save time to come myself. I’ve been promoted! I just finished my first year as the new Handler.”

“Congratulations,” said Five, reminding himself that small talk was a small price to pay for the information he needed. “Well deserved.”

“Thank you,” said Dot, flashing him that million-dollar smile once more. “And if you don’t mind me asking, are you really interested in changing the code for all of DemTech’s voting machines?”

Five patted the side of the computer monitor. “Oh, this? I figured it was my civic duty. Update the algorithms, prompt more hardware syncs, increase verification security. Just doing my part.”

“Oh,” said Dot, and now her smile had a forced, predatory edge. “See, we thought you might be trying to get our attention by changing the timeline. The timeline is our lifeline, you know.”

Five kept his face passive through years and years of practice. “Changing the code of these little voting machines can do that?”

Dot ignored his sarcasm. “We were going to give you some more time to settle in with your family before approaching you, but you and your little game saved us the time.”

“Approaching me for what?” asked Five, schooling his voice to sound disinterested. This was better than he’d expected: if the Commission had already planned on approaching him, that meant they needed him more than even he had anticipated. That was good. 

He always liked having the upper hand during negotiations. 

“Well,” said Dot, gently nodding her head like she was sharing a secret, “Your sister took out _most_ of our currently trained field agents. So, we’re a bit short staffed.”

“I imagine case management is overwhelmed, what with managing multiple timelines.”

Dot’s smile was straining at the edges. “We do have a vested interest in seeing you and your family back to your proper timeline.”

“The curated version? Or the one where the world ends?” Five asked. 

“May 1, 2019 was a beautiful, sunny day,” said Dot firmly. 

Five nodded. “Alright. What do you want from me?” 

“We thought you could come back as a consultant,” said Dot cheerfully, unsnapping her briefcase to extract a few crisp, neatly-typed papers. “Take special assignments on an as-needed basis, and in exchange you’ll have access to our Temporal Research and Development labs. Oh! And they finished with the specs for your older body. No more knee socks!” she said, waving her hand in the air in an awkward little celebration. 

_Fuck._ He hadn’t even considered that. No more growing pains in his fucking shins? Not having people ask him where his non-existent mother was? _Bliss._

“I vet the marks before I take them out,” said Five. “They need to be verified threats to the well-being of the timeline.” _No more innocents._

“Of course,” said Dot. “That’s all part of our new Transparency in Leadership policy. We’d also like you to help design the training modules for the new field agents, and to share any pertinent research you come across that could help us rejoin the main timeline.”

“Of course,” echoed Five, hopping out of his chair and crossing the floor to shake Dot’s gloved hand. “I want a briefcase assigned to me for my permanent, exclusive use. I want a 25% increase in my previous salary. And my siblings are obviously off-limits from Commission retaliation.”

“That should go without saying,” said Dot. “We’ll have the contract to you by close of business. Oh, this is so wonderful! Now I just need you to promise you won’t commit those code changes you’ve drafted.”

Her smile was perfect, her eyes were cool and focused, and her handshake was firmer than expected. Five’s opinion of pretty, friendly Dot rose several notches. 

“Of course not,” he said, backing away and making a big show of exiting out of the contractor’s code repositories. “I’ll be answering directly to you?” 

“To Herb and myself, yes.”

“Excellent,” said Five, and then he jumped himself back home.

~~~

Vanya stared at the boots. The boots seemed to stare back. 

She and Klaus and Allison had already picked up a couple hundred dollars worth of toiletries, underwear, and boring man-pants for Diego and Luther from a basic box store. Now they were at one of Klaus’ favorite second-hand shops in the business district, and Vanya was tempted to spend more than a third of her clothing budget on only lightly-scuffed Doc Martens in her size. 

“Find anything good?” Klaus asked, wandering over to her. 

Vanya held up a couple basic button ups, leggings, and skinny jeans she’d found.

“Nice, nice,” said Klaus, eyeing the shirts critically. “You’ll look good in those jewel tones. With coloring like ours, pastels can make us look just _ghastly._ ” 

“You pull them off,” said Vanya, eyeing a lavender V-neck tunic that Klaus had dropped into his basket. 

“It’s about the attitude, baby. Now talk to me about footwear.”

Vanya gestured to the boots. 

Klaus’ eyes went wide. “Oh, yes sister! Live your best little funky bisexual life! _Ohmygod,_ you can come with me to the next Pride parade.”

Vanya plunked the boots in her bag and tried not to think too hard about the feeling of Sissy’s soft body going relaxed and pliant against her own. 

“You miss her, don’t you?” Klaus asked, giving her a sad little smile. 

“I just… it felt like I really loved her. You know? It didn’t matter that she was a woman. Mostly I just felt like me. A version of myself that I wanted to be.” _Even though I couldn’t remember who I’d already been._

“I get it. Take your time, babe. I’m just really happy for you, but also kind of sad, you know? You found someone, and then they were taken away.”

Vanya reached for Klaus’ hand and gave it a squeeze. “You too. You doing okay?” 

“I still can’t bring myself to try and conjure him,” said Klaus quietly as they fell into line behind Allison. “I can’t… what if I wasn’t with him this time around? If he joined up earlier, he might have been in a different platoon. He might not know me. And that…”

He cleared his throat roughly, and Vanya gently bumped her shoulder against his. “Hey,” said Vanya quietly. “It’ll be okay. Five will figure this out.”

“What’s up with him, anyway?” Allison asked. “Sometimes he looks at me like he’s not really seeing me. Like I’m a problem for him to solve.”

“We’re all problems for Five to solve,” said Klaus, dumping his selections on the checkout counter.

Sometimes Five looked at her that way too, with a little furrow between his brows and his hands in his pockets. When she looked back at him he would usually look away, and maybe Vanya was grieving for that, too. For the brother who’d made it a point of noticing her all those years before. 

~~~

Something in Vanya’s annoyed, focused expression called out to him. 

He’d felt the same way once. Overwhelmed by the power within him, and simultaneously furious at his own limitations. Power wanted to be used; potential energy was stored in objects and bodies that were stressed within themselves, and holding it back was a tedious exercise in self denial. 

After thirty years in the apocalypse, Five felt like he’d denied himself more than enough. 

“Again,” he said, gathering up their recyclables and standing the empty bottles, cans, and boxes back up in a row. He left about a foot of space between each one, and then reminded Vanya, “It’s about precision. You don’t want to hit one of us in a fight.”

“You’re so sure it’s going to come down to a fight,” said Vanya, huffing her hair out of her face impatiently. Her cheeks were flushed with effort, and ( _don’t look you bastard)_ her nipples were hard from the cold, pressing against the thin material of her shirt. 

“It always comes down to a fight,” said Five, stepping back from her targets. “Welcome to the Umbrella Academy.”

Vanya grimaced and held out her palms again. A blinding white light burned through the empty cheerios box, but then gentled to something approaching a flashlight beam. One by one Vanya knocked over their recyclables, and nothing else was incinerated in the process. 

Five felt… proud, he realized. He was proud of Vanya.

He’d experienced that same odd, diffused warmth when he’d found her book in the ruins of the library. She’d grown up with a kernel of defiance despite their father’s best efforts to squash it. She had maintained hope for her place in their family, despite all the things that had come before. And now, despite believing she was ordinary for nearly thirty years, she was training with powers that none of them (not even him) could really understand. 

The ability to raise the dead? God, he hoped the Commission didn’t figure that one out. They’d have her locked in a lab, and then… well, then it would be his turn to bring the world to its knees. Nobody was going to lock Vanya away again: not their father, not Luther, not even Vanya herself. 

He was back, now. She’d been his from the beginning, fair and square: he’d found her first. He’d been the one to hoard her smiles, to enjoy the sharp wit she hid behind that curtain of hair, to learn what made her blush. 

And now he was back, and trapped in this stupid small body with its low alcohol tolerance and raging hormones. 

Vanya smiled over at him, glowing with power and pride in herself, and Five found himself smiling back. 

He was so fucked. 

“You want to stop there?” he asked. “End on a high note?”

“Yeah,” said Vanya, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I’m getting shaky.”

“It takes a lot out of you,” said Five, sitting down beside her on the bottom step. 

“You used to practically pass out after your training with dad,” said Vanya, looking up at the night sky. 

“And you’d sneak down to the kitchen with me after mom was powered down. I’d make a fluffernutter, and you’d lick the peanut butter knife.”

Vanya bumped her shoulder into his. “I used to make them for you, after you left. I’d leave the hall light on, and a snack in the kitchen.”

“So that’s why Grace still had white bread and marshmallow fluff in stock,” mumbled Five, more to himself than to her. She hadn’t given up on him. _She hadn’t given up on him._ He’d spent years and years trying to get back to his family, and there she’d been all along: literally leaving the light on for him. 

Vanya hummed an acknowledgement, and for a few minutes they sat quietly together, enjoying the cool night air that hinted at spring. “I’m not going to be around much in the next couple weeks. But you should keep training. You’re making good progress already.”

“Where will you be?” Vanya asked, turning to him. In the shadowy half-light of evening in the city she was all pointy nose and shadowed eyes, a simulacrum of the girl whose memories had haunted his apocalypse. “Why are you leaving?” 

Suddenly they were thirteen all over again, and Vanya was desperately shaking her head at him from her seat at the dinner table. _Don’t go. Not without me._

If he was going to tell anyone the truth, it should be her. “It’s the Commission,” he said eventually. “They’ve offered me a...trade.” 

“You’re going to have to kill again, aren’t you?” asked Vanya quietly. 

“Does that bother you?” Five asked, desperately resisting the urge to card his fingers through the coarse silk of her dark hair. He told himself that her answer wouldn’t matter to him. He’d made a deal. He’d honor it. 

Vanya looked away, toying with the hem of her shirt. “I guess— I don’t want you to get hurt. If it wasn’t you, doing the job, it would be someone else. Right?”

_In one shadowed conversation she’d come to the same excuse Five himself had used for more than ten years._

“Yes,” said Five quietly. “They’re dead either way.”

She fiddled with her shirt before hunching more tightly into herself, shivering a little in the cold night air. Impulsively Five wrapped his hand around her bicep and jumped them up to her bed, landing them in the exact same position they’d been sitting in on the steps. 

“You’ve gotten good at that,” said Vana, giving him that half-smile that Five had always privately considered his. 

“Yeah,” said Five, getting to his feet and walking to the trapdoor. “I’ve gotten good at a lot of things.”

He thought he’d gotten the last word in, but as he hopped off the bottom rung of her ladder he heard Vanya call, “Be careful.”

He wondered if the definition of “be careful” could be expanded. Could it mean, _I’ll miss you?_ Or maybe “ _Come back this time.”_

There was a name and file folder waiting for him in the library. He flipped through the Commission paperwork, did a quick search on the virologist they’d listed for termination, and then went to work. 

(Before he left, Five paused on the sidewalk outside. A faint glow was coming from the very top window, and Five pretended for a moment that she could see him, that she would be there waiting for the time he’d come back. _Be careful,_ she’d told him. “I will be,” Five muttered, and then jumped away.)


	4. Don't Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Previously on Foundations:_  
>  In order to get the Commission’s attention, Five threatens to increase the functionality of the code inside voting machines. Dot shows up to stop him, and offers Five a trade: consult for the Commission, and in exchange he’ll get his older body and help getting the crew back home. Five and Vanya train again, before sharing a sweet moment where he says he’ll be away for a while

Don't worry if you don't know what to do  
I've spent a little time in worried shoes  
I wore them out through walking  
It wasn't any use  
Don't worry if you don't know what to do.  
_\--Frank Turner_

* * *

Vanya woke up late the next morning. The bright sun was shining in the high arched front window, and there was a crisply folded piece of paper safety pinned to the heavy wool blanket that had been on her bed when they’d arrived. 

Somehow, even after more than ten years away from them, it didn’t surprise her that one of her siblings had come into her room, pinned a note to her sleeping body, and then left instead of just, you know,  _ waiting for her.  _

Vanya unfolded the paper and a debit card slipped out. This made even more sense when she saw the note was from Five. His handwriting was just as spikey and bold as it had always been, and she caught herself absently tracing the slashed letters of her name with the tip of her index finger.

_ Vanya,  _

_ I’ll probably be away on a job for the next few days. I’ve got some training exercises written up for you downstairs. Tell the others to fuck off when you need a break, but don’t be afraid to push yourself.  _

_ I’ve set up a bank account. Here’s a card. DO NOT tell the others, especially Klaus. You’re the only member of our family to have successfully held down a real job for any respectable period of time, so it seems fair to let the others have a stab at it no. Don’t worry that you aren’t working. Bigger fish to fry and all that.  _

He’d signed it  **_Ⅴ,_ ** scrawling the roman numeral 5 just the way he always had. Beneath it he’d added, 

_ PS. You should consider buying stock in Proctor & Gamble, Lato Scientific, and Prestige Ameritech. _

Amused by his blatant future-sider trading, Vanya pulled some clothes together and headed for the shower.

She’d always been a creature of the twilight hours. One of the nice things about making her living in the arts (and there had been many, many downsides) was that she had more control of her own schedule than the average office worker. Orchestra rehearsal didn’t start until ten, and her private classes usually started at four. As Vanya roughly shampooed her hair in the bathroom that she was sharing with Luther and Klaus, she wondered if it would end up being her own family that finally made a morning person out of her. 

With her hair still damp, Vanya headed down to the kitchen, where the rest of the family had already gathered. Allison was vigorously typing into yet another laptop, Luther was doing the breakfast dishes, and Klaus and Diego were arguing over who got the last cup of coffee. 

“I do,” said Vanya, pushing between the two of them to snag the carafe and a mug. 

“Cheater,” Diego muttered, before promptly challenging Klaus to a game of rock, paper, scissors. Loser had to make the next pot. 

“You know,” said Allison as Vanya sat down next to her, “I’m almost a little worried about what Five is going to do when he gets back and sees that we’ve used all his coffee.”

“I kind of want to see it,” said Luther. “But even little, he’s…”

“Intense?” Allison asked. 

“Batshit insane,” said Diego confidently. 

“You’re just saying that because he’s not here,” said Klaus knowingly. “Say that to his face.”

“I have,” said Diego, watching the coffee maker impatiently. “I never said it wasn’t a good kind of crazy.”

“You’re the one who was stuck in an asylum,” said Luther, drying his hands. “You would know.”

Allison nudged Vanya. “Did Five leave you a note?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” said Vanya. “How’d you know?” 

“Some of us got notes as well, and there was a sticky note on the scotch this morning.”

“Yeah. It said if we drank it, he’d take it back, and we wouldn’t like how he did it,” said Luther. 

“Who drinks  _ scotch,”  _ Klaus scoffed. “Tequila, baby. That’s where it’s at.”

“What did his other notes say?” asked Vanya, looking around at her siblings. 

“He told me to make sure our paperwork came through from Digger,” said Allison. 

“I’m supposed to help you train,” said Luther, glancing at Vanya. “But only if that’s okay with you,” he rushed to add. 

“I’m feeling left out,” said Klaus. 

Diego was quick to reply, “He must have assumed you could get by without supervision.” Klaus brightened at that. 

“The IDs already came,” said Allison, passing Vanya a heavy folder. Inside it was her new driver’s license, a fake college degree in anthropology, a credit report, and a social security card. 

“Wow,” said Vanya. Money really could buy anything, huh. 

“I know,” said Allison. “I’m heading out this morning for some training supplies for me and Luther. Want to come with me?” 

“You’re training too?” Vanya asked, trying not to imagine Allison rumoring all of them as practice. 

“Oh, not like that,” said Allison, copying down something from the laptop before closing it with a snap. “Job training. We may have gotten these credentials illicitly, but from here on out we need to earn it.”

“Right,” said Luther loyally. “I know a lot about the moon. And I did pretty well in dad’s science classes. But I don’t know much about… teaching.”

Vanya still didn’t know why he’d picked that particular career when Digger could have made him just about anything, but she chose to keep her mouth shut. 

“I need to read up on it. And make lesson plans, I guess.”

“I should probably get a yoga mat,” said Klaus thoughtfully. “Start putting in applications.”

Diego flipped one of his knives and grinned. “I’ve been training for bounty hunting my whole life.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t need to apply to bail agencies,” Allison shot back. Diego waved her protest away. 

“Have you thought any more about what you want to do?” Klaus asked, turning to Vanya. “One of us needs a job that pays more than minimum wage, right?”

“I don’t know,” said Vanya uncomfortably, shifting in her seat. “I’m just—”  _ Ordinary. Dangerous.  _ “I don’t exactly have any transferable skills,” she finished lamely. 

“It could be for the best,” Diego said, throwing himself into a chair on the other side of the table. He did everything like that, in bursts of beautifully coordinated, intense movement. “You just work on getting your powers figured out. Work on your training. We’ve got the rest this time.”

Vanya blinked in surprise before offering him a smile. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, no pressure, Vanya,” said Klaus with a sunny smile. “I’m just happy you’re back.”

Vanya swallowed down the protest that she’d never been  _ gone.  _ She’d given Pogo her apartment’s address. She’d been there for any sibling who cared to ask. 

“I think I’m going to go out for the day,” she said, swallowing the last of her coffee and heading for the door. She had Five’s debit card in her pocket, new boots on her feet, and nowhere to be. 

~~~

The first thing she did was buy herself a secondhand peacoat. The sleeves were a little too long, but the bright red silk lining was in good condition, and it was deliciously warm. The next thing she did was go for a walk. 

The city was mostly the same as it had always been back in her 2019, and that was reassuring, too. Big cities like this… they were alive in a way that had nothing to do with the sum of the people inside them. The city attracted people to it every day; it grew and sprawled within the confines of the river and train tracks. It breathed with the seasons, emanated its own heat, and would go on thriving long after Vanya and her siblings were gone. 

The park was filled with people already: joggers, moms and their kids, and business people hurrying to work. Vanya watched them for a while, reveling in the sense of sameness here, before setting off again. 

The last time she’d felt this displaced, she’d written a book. 

It had been her own scream into the void that she was here, that her experiences were real, because surely if other people knew what had happened, it would validate her feelings, wouldn’t it? She wouldn’t wonder any more if she’d made it all up, if it had really been as bad as she remembered it feeling. 

(Didn’t adults move on?)

Vanya passed a corner music store with a used Yamaha violin in the window. It’s woodwork gleamed, and she turned her face away,clenching her fist tightly inside of her coat pocket. She knew why she had callouses on the tips of her fingers, now. Those same fingers itched to feel the bite of the strings, to pull music out of the ether and lose herself in it. 

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t lose herself, not now and maybe not ever. She had a world to protect. 

There was a woman handing out pamphlets on the 2020 Census outside of the courthouse. She asked if Vanya would be interested in being a census taker. She declined, but that did raise the question: without her violin, without her job, without anything resembling a  _ purpose,  _ what the hell was Vanya going to do with her days? 

~~~

When Vanya got back to the brownstone, windswept and footsore, it was to find that Allison and Luther had turned the formal dining room into a mess of career-training paraphernalia. Luther had earbuds in, and he was making notes in a heavy-duty binder about whatever it was he was listening to. 

Allison had a creepy plastic hand in front of her, and she was painstakingly painting its nails. 

“Better,” said Klaus, hitting STOP on his phone timer. “You beat your last record!”

“But there’s still smudges outside the nail bed,” said Allison with apparent frustration. “I can do it neatly, or I can do it quickly. These women who can do both are wizards.”

“They’ve practiced,” said Vanya, hanging her coat over the back of a chair before taking a seat. “Where’s Diego?” 

“Who knows,” said Allison with a sigh, soaking a cotton ball in acetone. 

“Probably lurking in an alley,” said Klaus carelessly. “Hey Allison when you get better, will you do my nails?”

“After dinner,” said Allison. “The smell is giving me a headache.”

“And you haven’t even started on makeup,” said Klaus. 

Allison raised a beautifully sculpted brow. “Do I look like I need help with makeup?” 

Klaus held up his hands in surrender. “I just thought it would be fun. Sheesh.”

Luther took out his earbuds and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to get fired. There’s no way I’ll remember all of these requirements.”

“I substituted sometimes,” Vanya offered quietly. “During the orchestra’s off season. They usually leave the teachers a guidebook on what has to happen when.”

“Just ask yourself, “What would Reginald do?” and then do the opposite of that,” said Klaus, nodding sagely. 

“Not bad advice,” said Diego, breezing in on a blast of cold air. “I ask myself that everyday.”

“What were you up to?” Allison asked, capping all of her paints and removers. 

“Job hunting,” said Diego. “Turns out I’d have to set up an LLC if I want to have my own private investigator gig. None of the established groups are hiring.”

“Was it the knives?” asked Klaus sympathetically. “They’d scare me, too.”

Diego ignored him. “I think the bounty thing could pan out, though. Just need to borrow one of your computers so I can fill out the applications.”

“You can use mine after dinner,” said Luther. “I’m going to train Vanya.”

Diego raised a brow and looked over at her. “You cool with that sis? Need someone to sit in?”

Vanya’s heart warmed. Diego might never tell her that he’d forgiven her out loud, but he’d show up if she needed him. For someone who’d always gone it alone— fuck, she was getting choked up. That never happened when she was on her meds, either.

“Does anyone feel like cooking?” Allison asked, massaging her temples. 

“Takeout?” said Luther, gingerly leaning back in his chair. 

“Can’t afford it, big boy,” said Diego, standing and heading for the kitchen. Vanya followed him. “Can you cook?” he asked her. 

“Yeah. Well, basic stuff. I wouldn’t say I can  _ cook  _ cook.”

Diego held up a hand and started pulling stuff out of the fridge. “You kept yourself alive for ten years. That’s more than the others can say, right?”

“Right,” said Vanya, relieved that he’d cut her off. Diego made her nervous. 

He gave the fridge a long look. “We’ve got all these vegetables Allison picked out, and they’re gonna go funky here soon. You good for pad thai?

“Sounds good,” said Vanya. Even she couldn’t screw up a stir fry too badly. 

“We’ve even got peanut butter, thanks to Five,” said Diego, muffled by the little pantry. “I’ll start on the chicken and sauce, you chop and peel.

“Alight,” said Vanya, carrying bags of vegetables over to the sink for a wash. 

They prepped companionably for a while while the chicken sizzled. Diego got himself a beer before offering one to Vanya, who turned it down. 

“What’d you do today?” he asked, flipping the chicken thighs in the pan. 

A month ago Vanya would assume that he was asking it to be cruel; that he was expecting her to admit her uselessness to the team. Now the question was just a question: one sibling checking in with another. 

“I mostly walked around,” said Vanya, concentrating on not cutting off the tip of her finger along with the carrot she was grating. “The city seems so… normal.”

“I know,” said Diego. “A saw a few familiar faces out on the street in Ensen Square. They won’t know me, but. I guess it’s nice to know it’s all still here.”

_ Yeah,  _ Vanya thought, setting the carrots aside.  _ I haven’t killed them all this time.  _

Guilt was an odd thing. She still felt vaguely guilty for telling Grace (a robot) that she hated her when she was seven. That shame still pulsed when Vanya remembered. But having killed the entire world? She couldn’t process that. She couldn’t even process having wiped their city off the map. 

“Hey! Vanya.” Diego was giving her a weird look. She glanced over and saw that he’d diced and plated the cooked chicken, and that he needed to add the vegetables and some of the peanut sauce to the pan. 

“Oh,” she said, passing him the bowl of diced veggies. “Sorry.”

“You good?”

“Yeah,” said Vanya. “I’m fine. Trying to figure out what I should do tomorrow, I guess.”

She itched to  _ make  _ something. She missed her music, missed it like a piece of herself was gone and couldn’t be replaced. It wasn’t the right time, though. She knew that. Her siblings were trying so hard for her. She would try, too. 

“What did you always want to do?” Diego asked, competently picking up the frying pan and giving it a sharp shake, efficiently flipping the carrots and peppers and broccoli. “And would you check the pantry for noodles?”

“No rice noodles,” said Vanya, reemerging from the narrow pantry. “Just these gluten free things Allison bought for Luther.”

“Whatever,” said Diego. “We’re doing our best. Put ‘em on to boil.”

Vanya got a pot and thought about what he’d asked.  _ What did she always want to do?  _

Mostly what she’d always wanted was right here, currently in her grasp. She was spending time with her family, and nobody was insinuating that she didn’t belong here. That was all she’d ever wanted, really. Somewhere to belong. 

(It was a feeling that had been entirely barren from her life once Five had been lost. It was a feeling that had resurfaced again and again while she was with Sissy and knew nobody was looking for her.)

“I don’t really know what I always wanted to do,” said Vanya quietly, salting the noodle water and waiting for it to boil. “I was on those meds, and it’s… I was mostly focused on the next lesson. The next day.”  _ The next pill, the next time she could sleep, the next never-ending task that she had to suffer through in the name of functional adulthood.  _

Life had been a series of tasks that she needed to merely get through. Now her life was full of massive problems, but also joy, and love, and hope. 

Vanya stopped playing with her fingers, and looked up to see Diego watching her with sad eyes and a furrowed brow. “Shit,” he said succinctly. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

Vanya shrugged. “I know it’s the wrong timeline, and dad might send the others after us at some point, but… I’m kind of okay with this. Getting to be here, with you all.”

Since recovering her memories in that FBI building in 1963, it was the first rejectable overture she had made towards the family. She watched him carefully through the curtain of her hair.

Diego didn’t drop the ball. He pulled her into a quick hug before turning back to the frying pan and pretending the whole thing hadn’t happened. “Yeah, it’s not bad to come home to somebody,” he admitted gruffly. 

Vanya smiled to herself, holding the moment close like something tangible and precious. She started doing the prep dishes, humming Schubert to herself as she filled the sink, and didn’t notice anything was amiss until she noticed Diego standing unnaturally still next to her. 

“You alright?” he asked slowly, and Vanya turned in time to notice that a gentle breeze had been swirling through the room despite the closed windows. The paper napkins on the kitchen table had scattered, and little dish soap bubbles floated serenely through the air. 

“I’m fine,” said Vanya self-consciously. 

Diego looked at her for a long moment before turning back to their stir fry. “We’ll buy some paperweights,” he said, and then grabbed a colander to strain the noodles. 

The rest of the meal was peaceful and quiet in a companionable sort of way. Allison talked about what she needed to learn to qualify for one of the higher end spas, Luther talked about how he was worried he wouldn’t do a good job teaching, and Diego offered up that he was looking forward to bounty hunting. 

“I don’t think it works the way it does on TV,” said Allison as she put her plate into the dishwasher. 

“Nothing works the way you see it on TV,” said Diego. “That doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy it.”

“Are you, uh, ready to train?” Luther asked Vanya, hovering awkwardly by the back door. 

“Sure,” said Vanya, sliding into her coat. “What should we work on?” 

As she followed Luther out the door, she saw Diego giving her a thumbs up. 

“Five said that you’d practiced hitting targets that were sitting still,” said Luther. “Maybe I could toss them and you could do… whatever you do.”

“Okay,” said Vanya. “Thanks.”

After about twenty minutes, it became very apparent that hitting a moving target without disintegrating it into a tiny pile of ashes was going to be a problem. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!” said Vanya, patting around her pockets for a hairband. Her hair kept blowing into her face and sticking to her neck, and with her hearing so sensitive and her power coursing through her, it felt like all of her nerves were raw and oversensitive. 

Luther didn’t blink. “It’s going to be hard,” he said, regathering her targets. (Or at least, what remained of them.) “You’ll figure it out.”

“Or I’ll accidentally incinerate one of you the first time we get in a fight,” said Vanya, shaking out her hands before trying again. 

Luther shrugged. “Probably not.”

“Probably isn’t good enough.”

Luther sighed. “It took me six months to touch someone again after… the serum. I tore shirts in half, Pogo had to replace my bedroom door half a dozen times. All the taps in the upstairs bathroom had to be reinforced. I was so afraid that I would hurt anyone I touched.”

He had hurt her with his strength. But that had been on purpose, Vanya supposed. She’d seen him holding Allison’s hand, and the idea of him risking even her littlest finger was ludicrous. 

“It’s scary,” said Luther seriously. “To know that you can hurt the people closest to you. To make them bruise, or bleed. But you keep working on it, because failing now is better than never getting to relax again.”

Vanya took a deep breath and let her frustration and anger go on the exhale. “Alright,” she said. “Let’s do this again.”

Of the next eight targets Luther threw, she hit five of them. She only incinerated one. The others she missed completely. 

“That was so much better!” said Luther, smiling at Vanya with that All-American grin. “You’re learning so much faster than we did.”

Vanya didn’t snap that they had been kids, or that she’d still ‘failed’ more than half the time. It was better than she’d done before. She let Luther’s happiness wash over her, and tried to let it carry her along. 

“Thanks,” she told him. “I think I’m done for the night.”

“Alright,” he said affably, and tucked the recyclables back into their bin. “I’m glad you’re doing this.”

“So am I,” said Vanya, dropping down on the bottom step. 

“Maybe we could get some beanbags or something,” said Luther. “Something better for you to practice with.”

“Maybe once I stop burning things up,” she said wryly. 

“Good point.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments. Vanya was used to everyone over the age of twelve being taller than her, but Luther was just— he practically had a gravity of his own. He was tall, he’d  _ always  _ been tall, but now he had a bulk to him. 

“You seem… better,” she said quietly, glancing up at his profile before looking off into the soft darkness again. “You just… you move more easily now. You don’t wear that giant coat.”

Luther snorted. “You try wearing a wool coat during the summer in Texas. I had to take it off, or die with it on.”

Vanya snickered at that image. 

“I guess… I realized there are people who are going to care about what I look like, and there are people who will care more about what I actually  _ do,”  _ he said slowly, like he’d never quite voiced these ideas. “I made friends in Dallas. I’d never had, you know.  _ Friends  _ before.

“It’s not that I don’t love you guys— you know what I mean— but I always kind of assumed that you would talk to me because you had to. I’m your brother. But I still managed to get a job—” 

“Well. Sort of a job,” said Vanya, bumping her shoulder against him. “I don’t think you can fill out a W2 for throwing fights.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Luther, but Vanya could hear the smile in his voice. “It was… alright. Once I accepted that I couldn’t come back here, it was alright.” 

“I’m glad,” said Vanya. She didn’t hold any enmity towards Luther, not anymore. He’d been just as fucked up as the rest of them, in his own way. She’d been forced to accept (early and often) that nothing she did would earn her father’s love. Luther had thought that one more win, one more impossible feat would finally be the thing to win Reginald’s approval. 

In an odd, diffused sort of way, she pitied him. 

“You know,” she said slowly, wishing she could see the stars. “I think you’re going to be a good teacher.”

“Yeah?” he asked with all of the unconcealed hope of a golden retriever puppy. 

“Yeah,” said Vanya. “You’re patient. You want to do what’s right. Just do your best, and don’t let the kids see you flustered.”

“I’ve walked into burning buildings. Active robberies.”

“And yet American high schools will be much, much worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite moments from Season 2 was Diego and Lila's yogurt conversation. He said, "The pinkiest," and that was the cutest thing Diego has ever done. I would like more of that soft, earnest content so I had to write it myself.


	5. Fooling Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Previously on Foundations_  
>  Five leaves Vanya with a note, a debit card, and nothing to do. She wanders around the city, admires a secondhand violin, and then returns home in time to see Allison and Luther training for their respective jobs. Vanya and Diego make dinner together and it was so sweet it even surprised your (ignoble) author. Vanya and Luther share a moment of encouragement while he’s out back helping her train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: extended discussion of pregnancy in a secondary character

You see the world through your cynical eyes  
You're a troubled young man I can tell  
You've got it all in the palm of your hand  
But your hand's wet with sweat and your head needs a rest  
And you’re fooling yourself if you don’t believe it.  
\-- _Styx_

* * *

When Five walked into his Commission-issued apartment, it felt like he’d been gone for another forty-five years. 

Back to back apocalypses could do that to a man. 

He’d already been by the uniform exchange to pick up one of the annoying, polyester blend, navy-blue suits. He had clothes in his apartment, but none of them would fit this frustratingly small body. 

Jesus. At least he could still drink scotch. 

It was just past one in the morning local time, so Five poured himself a drink, kicked off his shoes, and sank down on his leather couch. For a moment he just sat in the quiet, cool, familiar darkness and closed his eyes. 

His timeline was so fucking strange. 

In the morning he’d go by HQ to check in with Dot and Herb. From there he’d swing by the R&D building to see how the bioconstruction team was doing with his body. The same building housed the Temporospatial Development Center, and he’d see what he could make of their research into the multiverse. 

He was tired just thinking about it. 

He’d spent the last forty-five years trying to get back to his family in time to save them. That’s all he’d wanted in his heart of hearts. He’d wanted some place to go back to. And he’d done that, sort of. The family wasn’t under any immediate threat, but he wasn’t there to enjoy it with him. 

Five took a long swallow of scotch and enjoyed the way it burned along his throat. His bones ached; that tired creak of a body running on too much adrenaline and not enough sleep. (It didn’t help that this body was still fucking growing, and didn’t have any alcohol tolerance to speak of.)

He finished his drink, set down the glass, and loosened his uniform tie from around his throat. As he slowly walked through the dark apartment back to his bedroom, he felt the phone he’d reprogrammed vibrate in his trouser pocket. 

_ Vanya.  _

He continued undressing, dropping his vest and shirt and trousers over the back of a high-backed wooden chair before crawling into bed in only his boxers. The phone vibrated again, and Five opened the screen. 

He’d set up an alert on the laptop he’d stolen and left in the brownstone with his siblings. If any of them tried to use it, he got an alert and a report on what the user was doing. It wasn’t that he minded that they were using it, exactly. It was more that he wanted to be informed. 

A list of google searches popped up: 

_ How does the mind process memories? _

_ Is identity made of memory? _

_ Mind/brain identity theory _

_ Plasticity of memory _

Vanya. Five’s chest tightened at his image of her: sitting up in that cold attic in her rumpled twin bed with his laptop balanced over her knees. He wished he was there to talk this through with her. He wished he knew that she would  _ let _ him. He’d been gone for so long, and then when he’d come back he’d  _ written her off.  _

Even when he’d found out that she’d been spending time with the owner of the glass eyes, he’d still hadn’t prioritized her. He wasn’t even going to think about what had happened at the theater. If she didn’t trust him anymore he had nobody to blame but himself, and guilt and regret were his oldest companions. 

His phone pinged again. Vanya was making herself an email account. Then she opened up google docs and started taking notes on her memory and identity research. Five thought it might be too intrusive to email her, but then again, he used to let her crawl under the covers of his bed on cold winter nights. 

What was a little emailing between siblings? 

number.five:  _ Hello, Vanya. You’re up late.  _

vjohnson:  _ five, I just made this account three minutes ago. How did you already get the address?  _

number.five:  _ Don’t worry about it. It’s late where you are. How has training been going? _

He was painfully aware that time was passing differently for them. In Vanya’s world, he’d been gone for five days. For Five, it had only been two. Time wasn’t a river: it was something much more difficult to measure and quantify. 

vjohnson:  _ fine. I haven’t disintegrated Luther yet. I’ve started picking up things and seeing how long I can keep them in the air.  _

Five read over her message twice, cursing himself for not asking the questions he really wanted answers to. He asked her about training when what he really wanted to know was whether or not she was thinking about him, if she was eating enough, if the others were giving her a hard time. 

He couldn’t properly take care of her from here. 

Five soothed himself with the knowledge that at least she was using his debit card. He’d saved nearly all of the salary he’d pulled over the years, and he’d made some savvy, hidden investments years ago. Stocks were just trends and statistics, and traveling through time had given him more insight than most. 

In short, Five had more money than their father had ever had, and Vanya was welcome to all of it. 

Five let his eyes close. Vanya was fine, he told himself. She didn’t need him. 

His phone vibrated on his chest. 

vjohnson:  _ I miss you.  _

vjohnson:  _ At least this time I can just message you, instead of leaving out peanut butter sandwiches.  _

Five smiled to himself in the dark, picturing Vanyas’s pinched face as she hunched over the keyboard. 

number.five:  _ I miss you too. Now go to sleep.  _

Soon, he told himself. Soon he’d be next to her. 

~~~

Five watched as the rabbit kit wriggled amongst the sensors and wires. 

“We’ve got biofeedback set up,” said Tammy, nodding towards the heavily insulated box in which the rabbit currently resided. “Growth slows and ceases when the specimen reaches physical prime.”

“Can it be programmed to go longer?” Five asked. 

Tammy pursed her lipstick-slicked mouth. “I suppose,” she said. “Though it seems a less-efficient use of the technology.”

“This technology is being developed for me,” said Five. “And as humans tend to reach peak muscular fitness at 25, I’d like to be able to go past that.”

“What age did you have in mind?” Tammy asked, pulling a tablet stylus out from behind her ear. 

“34, 35. Somewhere in there would be good.”

“Hmm,” said Tammy, jotting down notes. “We have your old records, from your initial Agency physical. I would advise against using those parameters, but we can if it’s what you would prefer.”

“No,” said Five decisively, reading Tammy’s math over her shoulder. “I’m never getting fucking scurvy again.”

Tammy wrote all that down, and then flipped back over to the sensors and monitors that were attached to the baby rabbit. 

“First we put the patient into a medically induced coma,” she said. “Then the atmospheric pressure increases, and then…”

The changes weren’t noticeable at first. The kit looked like it was sleeping normally amongst its nest of wires, but then… its ears slowly lengthened, it’s fur thickened, and the rabbit’s overall size increased to that of an average adult rabbit. 

“All the DNA markers are already there,” said Tammy. “We just bring them out to their full potential.”

“Growth rate is dependent upon mass?” Five asked, feeling a tingle of excitement and nerves as he looked at the rabbit. 

“Of course,” said Tammy. “You’ll need to undergo another physical, just to make sure you don’t have any underlying conditions we may exacerbate during the growth period.”

“I’ll get to the clinic tomorrow morning,” said Five, making a mental note. “How long will I be out?” 

“I’m not sure,” said Tammy. “Probably three or so days.”

“And I’m not going to end up as a fish?” 

Tammy blushed. “I wasn’t responsible for AJ’s… procedure. That team was retired.”

“At least make me a mammal,” said Five. “Anything else?”

“Nope. I’ll have HQ pull you in when everything’s ready. It’s an honor getting to work with you, Agent Five.”

Five headed out of the bioconstruction lab, turned down the corridor, and walked up to the Temporospatial wing. They’d been told to expect him. Unfortunately for Five, the team was exactly what  _ he  _ had expected. 

“You’re still working with the transitive continuum hypothesis,” he said, tapping his fingers on the outside of his thigh and wishing he had coffee. “We can’t null the continuum hypothesis when we know we’re dealing with the multiverse. It’s pointless.”

Deacon fiddled with his whiteboard marker. “I see what you’re saying, but we’ve always kind of dealt with the multiverse? Isn’t that the point of the Commission? To keep everyone on the same timeline?” 

“So?” asked Five. “We aren’t dealing with that timeline anymore. We have an entirely new timeline. We need new math.”

“We were hoping you could help with that,” said Hae, tucking a shock of black hair behind her ear. “We’re outside our area of expertise.”

“And you think I’m not?” Five tossed himself into a nearby bucket chair and rubbed his forehead. “Okay. Walk me through your strategy for this.”

The mathematicians looked at each other. “We got caught up in the mathematical universe hypothesis and the computable universe hypothesis,” said Deacon guiltily. 

Five took a deep breath in through his nose, counted to ten, and then slowly let it out again. “And that help, how?” 

“It would help us define our baseline definitions and assumptions before proceeding to—” 

“We know there’s a multiverse,” Five repeated, trying not to give into the pull of exhausted despair. At this rate he’d never get his family back home, never have a chance to woo Vanya back to his side. “That ought to streamline the math, because there is no more theory. We should assume that the laws of natural mathematics will work across these nested universes, and that the math is converging towards one definite structure. Time is still measured in all other universes, right? Then why don’t we make time a stationary variable.”

Five opened his eyes to find Deacon and Hae blinking at him. 

“Wouldn’t that suggest that the universes are essentially stationary, and liked by a cohesive stream of time?” 

“Yes,” said Five, and his phone vibrated in his pocket. “So get to work. I’ll bring whatever I come up with tomorrow.”

He could hear them whispering as soon as his back was turned. Christ, it wasn’t like he’d even raised his voice this time. What did they expect, fucking around with numerical philosophy when the timelines split more and more every day?

At least the woman running the aging process was competent.

Five stepped out of the R&D complex and stretched, blinking in the sunlight that shone down over the perfectly maintained Temps Agency complex. The lawn was green and perfect, a songbird tittered overhead, and the temperature was a comfortable 72 degrees. A little bubble of timeless perfection, held outside of time and space. 

He thumbed open his phone screen while he hiked across campus to get a coffee. 

vjohnson:  _ You okay? You haven’t been home for dinner in a few days _ . 

number.five:  _ I’m fine. I’ve been working with the Commission on the time math. They’re about as helpful as Luther would be.  _

vjohnson:  _ At this point I think Luther might rather help you than me. I lost my temper earlier, and launched Luther up a good twenty feet in the air. I think Allison’s kissing his booboos.  _

Five grinned down at his phone. 

number.five:  _ At least you have a good attitude about it. Did something happen? _

vjohnson:  _ He told me I wasn’t concentrating. I was concentrating, but there was a kid screaming a couple blocks away and it was just… too much. And you know how stubborn Luther is.  _

number.five:  _ High frequency noises might be a trigger for you. Maybe we can work on that when I get back. It isn’t uncommon for neurodivergent people to have aural triggers.  _

vjohnson:  _ I’m neurodivergent?  _

number.five:  _ V, you can move things with your mind. I don’t think that counts as typical, do you? _

Five had just accepted his XL, three extra shots, no cream-or-sugar coffee from the barista when her next message came through. 

vjohnson:  _ Guess not. When do you think you’ll be coming back?  _

Five burned the tip of his tongue on his first sip of coffee, but that only seemed fitting: he wished he was there, wished the two of them were talking about her day over the battered old kitchen table while cheap drip coffee brewed on the counter. 

number.five:  _ Soon. Probably a week for you?  _

vjohnson:  _ It’s already been a week.  _

number.five:  _ Miss me, sweetheart?  _

“The hell are you doing?” Five muttered to himself, even as his thumb hit SEND.  _ She doesn’t know you, asshole.  _ He’d never forget her wide-eyed look as she crouched in the cornfield.  _ You know me?  _

He’d survived thirty years in the apocalypse and another fifteen as an assassin, and he’d never forgotten her. Vanya’s memory could apparently be taken out by a ‘58 Chevy. He knew she’d gotten most of it back during her torture at the hands of the FBI, but that still wouldn’t replace all the time he’d lost with her.

vjohnson:  _ Of course I miss you. Allison is at work all day, Luther is studying, and Diego is being nice to me.  _

number.five:  _ This really is an alternate reality.  _

vjohnson:  _ At least Klaus is still Klaus. Luther caught him doing yoga naked on the back patio.  _

number.five:  _ Spaceboy must have loved that.  _

vjohnson:  _ He told Klaus that when he gets arrested, Luther won’t spend any of his money on bail. _

Five was nearly to the mess hall, where he had every intention of grabbing a meal to go and then walking back to his apartment to eat and work on the multiverse equations. He stepped inside, bought one of the ready made soup and sandwich combos, argued with the cashier about the Commission’s carrier bag policy, and was back out the door in ten minutes. 

vjohnson:  _ Allison got an apprentice spot at a salon uptown. She’s happy about it. She’s practiced her nail art on everyone, even Luther. She’s gotten pretty good.  _

There was an attached picture. Vanya’s thin hand was next to Luther’s big paw. Her nails were black with little planets painted on them. Luther’s were deep green, with fruit. Her cuticles looked ragged and sore, and Five wanted to kiss them better, or give her hands something better to do than fidget. 

(He wanted her hands on  _ him.) _

number.five:  _ Pretty. Bet Luther loved that _ . 

vjohnson:  _ I think he did. He and Allison listened to a podcast about inclusive teaching strategies and discussed it while she did his nails. I think they miss you too. They asked where you were.  _

Five was nearly back in his apartment now, walking under a long archway of old maple trees. 

number.five:  _ She isn’t painting my nails.  _

vjohnson:  _ That’s what Diego said, too. He got a job for Hanratty Bail Bonds.  _

Five let himself into his apartment, kicked off his shoes, and stripped off his jacket and tie. Once his container of broccoli cheddar soup was in the microwave, he replied. 

number.five:  _ You’re awfully chatty like this.  _

He had to wait nearly fifteen minutes for her reply. He told himself it wouldn’t matter if he’d scared her off. He’d see her soon enough, and then he’d entrench himself so deep in her life that she’d never get him out again. If she was going to imprint on the first person to be kind to her, it was damn well going to be him. 

(He’d found her  _ first. _ )

vjohnson:  _ I guess it’s easier like this. LIke when you talk to someone in the dark, and you don’t have to see their face.  _

number.five:  _ Probably why Catholic confessionals are so dark.  _

vjohnson:  _ Have you gone to many confessions? “Forgive me father, for I have sinned?”  _

Five’s dick twitched at that, and he wished he was there to watch her deliver that line. She’d do it with a straight face, mouth set and eyes impassive. Everyone but him would think she’d asked the question innocently enough. 

_ Fuck.  _ He was getting hard,  _ again.  _ This stupid body got hard if there was a stiff breeze. 

number.five:  _ You have something to confess?  _

Her response was a long time coming. 

vjohnson:  _ Not yet. _

_ ~~~ _

Roughly a week later, Vanya came back in the door from her morning run to find Allison fidgeting nervously by the door. 

“There you are!” she said with forced cheer. “I was wondering when you’d be back.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the salon?” Vanya asked, passing Allison and walking to the back of the house for some water. 

“Today’s one of my morning’s off,” said Allison. “Mondays are slow anyway.”

“Did you need me for something?” Vanya hoped it wasn’t wax practice. She’d let Allison rip all the hair off her legs, and wasn’t eager to repeat the experience. 

“I, uh… I was hoping you’d come to the doctor with me,” said Allison, all in a rush. “I’m really nervous.”

“Are you okay?” Vanya asked, feeling her heart drop. “I mean, of course I’ll come with you. Do we need to leave now?Just let me go change my shirt.”

“The salon can’t give me health insurance until I’m full time, so we have to go wait at the clinic, and— yeah, go change your shirt. Sorry for dumping it on you.”

“Just… sit down or something. We’ll figure it out.”

Vanya ripped off her ratty running shirt, slathered on deodorant, resigned herself to keeping her hair in its sweaty ponytail, and redressed as quickly as she could. 

“Alright,” she told Allison when she jogged back to the kitchen. “Let’s go.”

They headed out into the mild spring morning, Allison tall and beautiful in the secondhand clothes that somehow fit her beautifully, and Vanya feeling like a little kite, bobbing along in her wake. 

Allison hadn’t ever asked Vanya to do something like this before. Vanya figured that if Allison needed help with something, she’d just go to Luther. He was around somewhere; maybe working out in the backyard or up in his room, studying the state’s licensure materials. As kids Allison had frequently and loudly reminded the others that she was “the only girl in the Umbrella Academy,” and that reminder had hurt more than most. 

It wasn’t just that Vanya had been outside the ‘team’, it was ...well, she’d wanted a sister. 

As she and Allison walked across the city, Vanya realized that actually, maybe this was normal. She’d heard of plenty of sisters who had grown up disliking each other, and only became friends as adults, once they’d settled more comfortably into the people they were meant to become. 

“I’m, ah. I’m really proud of you,” said Vanya, glancing at Allison through her eyelashes before looking around at the old storefronts they were passing. The neighborhood smelled like cumin and laundry detergent and sizzling hot dogs: a beautiful spring day in the city. 

“You were the first one to get a job, and you’re getting really good at it,” she continued. “I hope you like the place you’re working.”

“Me too,” said Allison. “The other women are awesome so far. And thank you. It feels really good to know that you’re worthy of what you have. You know?” 

Vanya didn’t know, but maybe someday she’d find out. First step: learn who she wanted to be without the sedatives and with these terrible powers. Second step: develop enough self-esteem to feel worthy of the good things she did have.

“You’ve always had more of a work ethic than the boys,” said Vanya, remembering the way Allison was always the first one ready for their missions, the one to spend the most time on her post-mission reports, and the kid to want the most for themselves out in the real world. 

The only thing that had ever held Allison back had been time and a lack of experience, and with her powers, that couldn’t stop her for long. 

“It is not hard to work harder than men,” said Allison. “Most women do. And Black women work harder than them all.”

Allison turned, found a side door off a narrow alley, and stepped inside the building. 

It smelled like every doctor’s office Vanya had ever been in: like antiseptic and uncomfortable bodies. The receptionist sat in her little glass box behind the check in counter, and the words “Planned Parenthood” had been etched into the glass of her partition. 

Vanya found two empty seats in the far corner and sat down, watching as Allison signed in and talked with the receptionist. The waiting room was mostly full: mothers with little children, a few visibly pregnant women, one older woman flipping through a Home & Garden magazine, and a young couple in the corner with tightly clenched hands and wide, nervous eyes. 

Allison sat down next to Vanya, clenched her hands in her lap, and stared at the floor. “I think I’m pregnant,” she said quietly. 

“Oh,” said Vanya. Then the full impact of Allison’s confession hit her.  _ “Oh.  _ Ray?” 

Allison nodded jerkily. “Yeah. We used condoms, but…”

Vanya didn’t really need to know this much about Allison’s sex life, but she’d also grown up in a house with both Allison and Luther. Some things you learn, even if you don’t want to. 

“Ray would have been so excited,” said Allison quietly, twisting the simple gold wedding band she still wore. “He loved teaching. He loved kids.”

“But you wanted to wait?” Vanya asked, because she felt like she needed to contribute  _ something  _ to this conversation. 

Allison shrugged, and seemed to search for words. “I was there in 1961. I didn’t know where you guys were, or if I’d ever see you again, but I thought… probably I would, one day. I did love Ray, I really did. But not the same way he loved me, and I just… I couldn’t bring a kid into that. Into that lie. I’d already done that before. With… Claire.”

Allison’s voice went rough, and her bottom lip trembled for a moment before she sniffed loudly and blinked her tears away. “And here I am anyways,” she said. 

“Five will get us back to Claire,” said Vanya. She didn’t know what Allison was thinking now, didn’t know what she would do next, but she knew that Allison still wanted to get back to Claire. She wanted to give Claire the kind of mother they’d never had. “I know he will.”

“I’m glad someone believes that,” said Allison quietly. 

The two of them sat in awkward silence. Every few minutes a nurse would step out the side door and call someone’s name, and that woman would shuffle back to the exam rooms. One of the remaining babies started to cry. Allison continued to twist her wedding ring. 

“I thought I wanted to be a star,” said Allison quietly, nearly mumbling. “I sang, and danced, and rumored my way into movies. I wanted to be the girl everybody loved. And then I got pregnant, and I realized that I  _ really  _ wanted to be the mom my baby loved. I was going to be that little baby’s whole world, and they were going to be mine.

“I hated Reginald, then. I hated him  _ so much  _ because he’d found these perfect little babies, and he treated us like we were hunting dogs that he needed to train.”

Vanya wondered what it was like, to love someone so fiercely. Before she could figure out what to say the nurse called, “Allison Chestnut!” and Allison was nervously wiping her hands over her thighs while she walked into the back. 

God, poor Allison. Vanya had been too wrapped up in her own discomfort to pay much attention to her perfect, poised sister. Allison had lost her daughter, her rebound husband, and now she was facing the possibility of having another child in a timeline that wasn’t her own. 

Jesus. 

(All of which served to remind Vanya that when she got home she needed to feel for the strings of her IUD, because now that she knew that she had one, she didn’t know how long it had been since she’d checked it.)

After a few minutes of people watching Vanya pulled out the sleek phone that Five had somehow sent her through the medicine cabinet of their little bathroom. 

His first message? 

number.five:  _ You haven’t been answering me. Here’s a phone. Use it.  _

It was certainly more expensive looking than any phone she’d had before, it didn’t have any of the usual pre-installed apps and settings that she was accustomed to. Maybe it was some kind of time phone that would work even if she and Five were in different timelines. The theory sounded stupid, but so did briefcases as portable time machines. 

Life was strange. 

Vanya opened her text messages to the single contact in her phone and started typing.  _ Allison thinks she’s pregnant.  _

F:  _ Shit. She okay? _

V:  _ I don’t know. She’s with the doctor now, finding out I guess. The baby would be able to time travel with us, right?  _

F:  _ Based on the timing, it probably already did once. And Luther carried you back to the sixties. We won’t leave a Hargreeves behind. _

Vanya smiled down at her phone. Five talked a big game, and yeah his bite was probably worse than his bark, but he loved their family. Look at the shit he’d put up with for their sakes. 

V:  _ Do you ever think about having kids?  _ Not that he’d be able to do much about it in his current body.

F:  _ Not really.  _

Why the fuck was she asking him this? Why did she act like these messages were between her and… her imaginary friend version of Five? Sometime Five was going to come home, and he was going to be able to look her in the face and remember all the things she’d messaged to him. Vanya still blushed when she thought about her “Forgive me father” joke. 

(Had it been a joke? Ugh.)

F:  _ What about you? Want a mini-orchestra? _

Vany thought about it. For a long time she’d heard her co-workers’ happy baby announcements with an odd sense of shock. Most of them were her age or a little older; they weren’t  _ old enough  _ to be having kids of their own. 

Except that they were. It was normal and healthy to start families at 28, if that was what you wanted. 

Vanya tried to imagine herself with a baby at the breast, warm and soft and crying. Or getting up to feed and change her child in the middle of the night. Listening to the little coos and giggles and shrieks. 

It was like she was imagining another version of herself entirely. A version who knew what she was, and what she wanted. One with a sense of her own competency, who could not only take care of herself, but could tend to a little dependent. 

Did this mother-Vanya have a partner? Someone to help, to love her and the baby both?

V:  _ No,  _ she texted back.  _ I don’t think I want kids.  _

Somewhere in her heart of hearts, Vanya wanted to be selfish. If she finally found someone to love her, she wanted all of it for herself. She wanted all their time, their attention, their lazy Sunday mornings and long, wicked Friday nights. She didn’t want to be a responsible parent. Didn’t want to worry that there was an innocent she was somehow letting down. 

F:  _ Good for you.  _

F:  _ Tell Allison it’s going to be okay. I’ll come back soon, and we’ll have a family meeting.  _

V:  _ When is “soon”? _

F:  _ I don’t know, Vanya. Time moves very differently here.  _

V:  _ How long has it been? For you? _

F:  _ 27 days.  _

Vanya stared at that message for a few minutes. He’d been gone for nearly a month, and it had been two weeks for her. She wondered if he was being sent forwards and backwards through time, killing people with faces he’d never seen before but would always remember forever after. 

(Or maybe he didn’t think about the faces of the people he’d killed. Maybe that was just her. Maybe when you did it on purpose, with planning and a reason, it didn’t bother you like it did when you lost all control.)

And then Allison walked out, looking pale but more at peace than she’d been at first, and Vanya scrambled after her as Allison walked to the door. 

They made it a full block before Vanya worked up the courage to ask. “How’d it go?” 

“I am. Pregnant. 11 weeks already,” said Allison, taking a deep breath while they waited for a WALK light to turn. “And I’m keeping it.”

“Wow. Okay. Wow! Uh, congratulations?”

“Thank you,” said Allison, sending Vanya back a small but genuine smile. “And thank you again for coming with me today. I just… I think I needed to talk about it, and just being a mom, before I found out for sure. Because I really miss that part of myself. I miss Claire so badly it aches, and I want to make sure that I love this baby too, for everything they’re going to be on their own. Not because…” she took a deep breath. “Not because I miss Ray, or I miss Claire.”

“You’re already such a good mom,” said Vanya honestly, nudging Allison’s shoulder with her own. “I just… I hope I find something to do with myself and work at it half as hard as you do.”

“You will,” said Allison. “Hey— can we stop here? I’m not… I’m not really ready to go back and face Luther and the guys yet.”

“Sure,” said Vanya. She had a little bit of cash she’d taken out, and she didn’t think Five would begrudge it if she bought Allison’s lunch. It was still… a strange, sticky feeling. Spending someone else’s money that she knew she hadn’t earned. 

They queued up, and Allison abruptly turned from the chalkboard menu to tell Vanya, “Hey, I didn’t mean to make it sound like you don’t have anything you’re working on.”

“No,” it’s fine,” said Vanya, studiously reading over the (pretentious) taco offerings chalked on the board. “It’s not like I’m doing much.”

“You’ve got way more control over your powers than I thought you’d have,” said Allison. “It’s been, what, a week since something spilled or shattered.”

“Yeah. Seven whole days since the last incident.”

“Take the win,” Allison ordered, before stepping up to the register. 

_ Take the win. Accept what you have. I’m done talking about you. _

Vanya trailed Allison over to a small table near the front window, silently stewing. 

“What are you going to tell Luther?” Vanya asked, purely out of spite. She thought Five would be proud of her. 

Allison rubbed a temple. “I don’t know. It’s not like we’ve ever talked about anything.”

At least she wasn’t back on her “ _ We haven’t even kissed! _ ” bullshit. Luther hadn’t been great about pushing her door all the way closed when they were kids. Vanya could remember that now. 

“When Five gets back we should have a family meeting.”

“I need to tell Luther before I tell the others. He deserves to know.”

Vanya kept her mouth shut, and chomped into her shrimp taco more aggressively than was strictly necessary. She wasn’t going to get caught up in her siblings’ drama this time around. They could deal with their own problems, and she would deal with hers. 

Except… 

She really did hope that Five came back soon


	6. Wouldn't It Be Nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Previously on Foundations:_  
>  Five is back on the Commission base to see about getting his body back and getting his family back to the proper timeline. Both things are possible, but will take time. While he's gone he messages with Vanya, who is more open and flirtatious over text than she is in person.  
> Meanwhile, Vanya is trying to get herself into a routine when Allison finds out that she's expecting Ray's baby. It's a tense moment for the sisters.

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older  
Then we wouldn't have to wait so long?  
And wouldn't it be nice to live together  
In the kind of world where we belong?  
You know it's gonna make it that much better  
When we can say goodnight and stay together  
Oh wouldn’t it be nice  
_\--Beach Boys_

* * *

Vanya’s morning routine was simple: She woke up, drank some water, and went for a run to the music store, where she admired the Yamaha that was still in the window. Then she ran home, had breakfast, and showered. Allison and Luther would be at work, Klaus would still be asleep, and Diego would be… well, he could be anywhere. Bail jumpers needed nabbing at all hours, and he’d always been a night owl. 

So then Vanya went out to the backyard, where she practiced lifting and arranging cinderblocks with her mind. It was a pretty, clear spring morning and Vanya sat on her folded towel and let the sounds of the city sweep through her, even as the sun turned the inside of her eyelids red. 

Someone had music going, old swing and gospel from the sound of it. She couldn’t quite make out the tune, not enough to hum along, but her ear kept trying to lead her in that direction, like she was piecing together fragments of a dream she could almost remember. 

A heavy truck rumbled down a nearby street, causing manhole covers to rattle as it did. A bird was singing in one of the trees overhead, and—

And Vanya caught herself before she could hear the plants grow, or hear the tiny expansion and contractions of her arteries. Without opening her eyes she took a deep breath and focused. She had fifteen cinder blocks in the air right now, and she carefully floated another one off the pile. She was comfortable using her powers like this now; finding a balance in the amount of power that she let filter through her dam. As long as it was steady, she could maintain it for longer and longer periods of time without too much effort. 

“Impressive,” said a familiar voice, and Vanya heard the cinderblocks thud to the ground as she spun to look up at the back door. Five was leaning against the railing with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand and a smirk on his face. 

“You’re back,” said Vanya, scrambling to her feet and flying up the stairs to see him.

But then she was at the top, face to face with him, and she didn’t know… he’d never been much for touching, had hated it when someone tried to tend his injuries or pull him in for a hug. She’d been different, she’d been the exception, but that had been a long time ago. So she hovered a foot from him, shy and awkward, until he put his coffee down on the railing and pulled her in for a hug. 

“Hello, Vanya,” he said, and she felt his fingers spread a little more widely across her lower back. 

For a moment— for just the thinnest fraction of a second— Vanya let herself sink into the hug. He was familiar and sturdy and comfortable, and it soothed something inside her to know that her closest ally (her closest friend) was back within reach. 

“When did you get back?” Vanya asked, stepping back. She would swear he’d grown since the last time she’d seen him, too. His hair was a little shaggier, and he stood just that much taller than she did. 

“Late last night,” he said, picking up his coffee and preceding her in the back door. “Figured everyone needed their sleep.”

“How’d it go with the Commission?” asked Vanya. “Do they know how to fix us?” 

“Not yet,” said Five, crossing the room to pour himself more coffee. “But I’m getting closer. What have you been up to?”

“Nothing. Training.”

“You’re a lot better,” said Five. “It’s paying off.”

“Actually, I’ve been writing,” said Vanya, offering up the news as cautiously as she once did new pieces of music. 

“Diego must love that,” said Five, leaning against the edge of the counter and crossing his legs at the ankle. He was barefoot, in jeans, and wearing one of the V-neck sweaters she’d picked out for him. 

“It’s not about us,” said Vanya. “And I haven’t told him.”

Five took a long sip of coffee. “What’s it about?”

“Memory,” said Vanya. “If personality isn’t just about nature, some of it must be learned, right? So what if you could… kind of program memories into people? Like with a computer?” 

“Interesting,” said Five, and he sounded like he meant it. “Tell me more.”

“I know there’s been a bunch of science fiction about subliminal messaging and sleeper agents, or even people having their memories wiped but the government, but what if… well, what if someone who’d never been in love could be given the memory of what it was like to love someone? Could you help stave off Alzheimer’s that way?”

“It’s a great premise,” said Five. “You should keep me updated. Are you enjoying it?” 

“I don’t know,” said Vanya, fidgeting with the edge of a placemat. “I just started. But it feels good to be making something again.”

“Yeah,” said Five softly. “I imagine it does.”

A companionable silence fell over the kitchen. It had always been like that between them: they shared the capacity to enjoy each other’s presence. The space between them didn’t need to be filled by conversation or even activity. She’d always been happy purely with the knowledge that Five was  _ there.  _

“Do you have work?” Vanya asked, glancing up at him. 

Five blinked, and visually returned to himself. “Always,” he said. “But I think we can take the day off.”

“And do what?” Vanya asked. 

~~~

He took her to the aquarium. It went even better than he’d hoped. 

There had been a sticky moment at the front register. The teen behind the glass tried to sell him a kid’s ticket, and Five had growled out, “Two adults, please,” with so much pent-in frustration that the kid hadn’t even argued.

“I know it’s frustrating,” said Vanya as they headed in the wide glass doors. “But we all know you aren’t a kid. We know you’re… you.”

_ She had no fucking idea.  _ “It’s fine,” said Five, skipping over the issue entirely.  _ Soon,  _ he told himself.  _ Soon he’d be in the right body, and he’d be able to take her on dates like this and mean it.  _

They wandered peacefully for the first twenty minutes or so. River otters gamboled in a freshwater den. Tiny jellyfish swarmed through fifty foot high, water-filled columns. A local estuary system had been recreated, and all kinds of ancient looking fish swam slowly through the murky waters. 

And then they stepped into the next room, and Five had never felt the effects of his long separation from Vanya quite so keenly. Her eyes went wide and her lips parted just a little as wonder suffused her face. The light was eerie and blue and shifted as huge sharks and little fish darted through the massive tanks on either side of the long corridor. The glass walls were at least forty feet high,and Vanya walked to one as though hypnotized. 

(If he’d been in his proper body Five would have backed her into a corner and kissed her so deeply that he could taste her joy, too.)

They moved slowly along the corridor, which was mostly empty at this time of morning on a school day. Vanya watched the fish and rays and sharks, and Five watched her. “You haven’t been to the aquarium before?” he asked. 

“No,” she said, taking a step closer to the tank and peering up as though she was hoping to see the top. “I always meant to, but you know how it is. You never think to play tourist in your own city. And it—” she cut herself off and watched a massive shark slowly sway past. 

“What?” Five asked. He always wanted to know what she was thinking; had always been fascinated by the emotions he could see flickering over her face. 

Vanya shrugged and glanced away from him. “It seemed depressing to come alone.”

Five hadn’t thought he could ache for her any more than he already was. He’d been wrong. All those long years alone. He’d left, and it had sealed all their fates. He’d created the very apocalypse he’d been trapped in through the sheet act of leaving. 

“You aren’t alone now,” said Five, and he shoved his hands down in his pockets to keep from reaching out to toy with her hair. 

“I know,” she said, giving him that little half smile of hers before turning to look back at the fish. She leaned in and touched the glass as a ray swam by, looking like it was flying through the crystal blue water. As her fingertips touched the glass Five could see the shockwave that emanated through the water of the deep tank. It was almost imperceptible to the eye, just a sharp release of energy that briefly lit up Vanya’s hand and lifted the citizens of the tank. 

Five stepped forward, prepared to snatch Vanya and jump her from the room when the glass started to break—  _ stupid to bring her, stupid to ask why she hadn’t visited—  _ but nothing happened. The fish kept swimming. Vanya kept her palm pressed to the glass. 

“It’s okay,” she said without turning to look at him. “I don’t think I broke anything.”

“What were you thinking about?” he asked, moving closer until they were side by side, with their arms very nearly brushing. 

Her lips quirked, but it was a sad sort of smile. “About the glass,” She said. “About something so thin, holding back all that water.”

“You aren’t made of glass,” said Five, wishing he could offer her more. 

“I used to think I was,” said Vanya absently. “I used to feel moments away from shattering all the time. I was numb and so sad I was brittle with it. I would cry if I forgot my wallet at home, or if I’d forgotten to put more money on my metro card. I’d go home from a frustrating rehearsal and crawl into bed and forget to eat. I’d sleep for eighteen hours instead.”

“And now?” asked Five, very nearly feeling like he was intruding on something private and holy. (Very nearly, but not quite. This was Vanya, which meant that she was, in her entire being, holy to him.)

“And now I don’t think I’m made of glass,” she said, turning and walking slowly towards the exit. “Not anymore.”

~~~

In the end, Five wasn’t sure whose idea it had been to cook a fairly elaborate dinner. He  _ did  _ know that it had been his idea to drink as they did it. 

“You’re terrible at this,” said Vanya as she carefully slid the covered roasting pan into the oven. “That wine was meant to go in the roast.”

“We put  _ some  _ in,” said Five, topping up her glass. “And we should finish it before Allison gets home. It isn’t good for the baby.”

“She still hasn’t told the others,”said Vanya, scrolling her phone past an essay-long blog post to get to the biscuit recipe she wanted to make. “Maybe she was waiting for you.”

“She’ll have to say something eventually,” said Five, taking a sip of his scotch. 

Vanya plunked a package of romaine lettuce down by Five’s elbow. “Chop and wash that, will you?”

Five eyed the vegetable, but pulled out a knife and cutting board anyway. “Do you know when the others are going to get home?” 

“Allison and Luther usually get in around six,” said Vanya, setting butter out to soften. “If Klaus has decided to eat food, he tries to show up around then too.”

“What else would Klaus eat?” asked Five. “Can he photosynthesize yet?”

Vanya snorted. “Sometimes he does ‘cleansing fasts’.”

“If they don’t get in until six, why the hell are we messing with this now?” Not that he particularly minded spending time with Vanya in the kitchen. He had her to himself, and soothed every tense, frustrated instinct inside him.

“The roast is supposed to bake for at least two hours, and I’m not that great of a cook so it takes me forever.”

Five was looked down into the sink, where the lettuce he’d chopped floated in a large mixing bowl. “Now what?” he asked. 

“You’re supposed to use a salad spinner,” said Vanya, laughing. 

Five gave her a pinched, annoyed expression. “Why didn’t you say that?” 

“I thought you knew!” said Vanya, digging around in the cabinets and passing him the salad spinner. 

Five drained the lettuce with disdain before crossing the room to fiddle with the old record player that had been left behind by a previous resident or housekeeper. “What do you want to listen to?” He wanted his hands on her, and there were only so many pseudo-platonic excuses a man could use.

Vanya shrugged, and carefully measured lemon juice into a measuring cup of milk. “Not classical.”

Five ached for her, wished he could crawl inside her and soothe away the pain of losing something she’d loved so much.  _ It’s temporary,  _ he promised himself.  _ They’d train, and then she’d have enough control to go back to her music again.  _ She’d get everything she needed. He’d make sure of it. 

Static crackled from the record player for a few seconds, and then Paul McCartney began softly singing about a blackbird learning to fly. Vanya painstaking mixed biscuit dough together before covering the bowl and putting it in the fridge to wait until the roast was finished. Five leaned against the counter sipping his drink and content to watch her. 

She hadn’t changed much since he’d locked himself away from her in the future. Her hair had more texture now, a bit of natural wave that framed her pretty oval face, which was devoid of the baby fat that had once rounded her jaw and softened her cheekbones. 

He watched quietly as she wiped down the counters, her body lean and angular and still smaller than his own. 

“Dance with me,” said Five abruptly, setting his glass on the counter with a soft click. 

“What?” 

“What else are you going to do?” asked Five, jumping across the room and reappearing inches from Vanya. “Let’s dance.”

“Alright,” she said, shuffling a little as Five took her hand and towed her into the clear part of the floor. God, but she really never said no to him, did she?

_ All My Loving  _ started to play, and Five led her into a simple swing step, turning her through the little kitchen with a smile on his face. 

“Remember how dad made us take dancing lessons every summer?” Five asked, cueing Vanya into a little twirl. 

She smiled at him, wide and open. “Diego had a crush on the instructor so bad.”

“Klaus always insisted on learning the girl’s parts,” said Five.

Vanya laughed, and for the rest of the song Five was content merely to dance with her, to wash the way her dark hair fanned over her shoulders and the way her eyes lit up with he spun her into a turn. Soon enough he’d be back in his proper body, and then he’d finally be able to touch Vanya like this and  _ mean it.  _

The song changed, and the opening chord of  _ A Hard Day’s Night  _ began twanged out. Five stopped moving, holding Vanya’s hand close to his chest, and the moment was suspended and tense and god, he wanted to kiss her, but—

She spun away, looking at him over her shoulder while she gave her hips a little shimmy. Five laughed and started dancing too, embracing all the odd angles and flexibility that this wrong body possessed. Vanya bopped her head and twisted her hips, and her cheeks were flushed and smiling, and Five wanted this moment to last forever: just the two of them and the music and the happiness emanating from her like heat from the sun. He’d be content to bask in it for the rest of his unnaturally long life. 

The song ended, and Five picked up his glass to pour himself a refill. When he turned he saw Luther leaning against the doorjam with a soft expression on his face. “Sorry,” he said, holding up ungloved hands. “Don’t stop on my account.”

Vanya turned, eyes sparkling and cheeks pink. “Luther! How was the interview?” 

“I got it!” he said. “I’ll be a long-term sub in Chesterton High School’s science department.”

“Congratulations,” said Five, walking over to shake Luther’s hand. “Hope it works out.”

“Are you excited?” asked Vanya, pouring herself another glass of wine and then dumping the rest of the bottle into a Luther-sized beer stein. 

“Yeah,” he said, sliding into a chair on the far side of the table. “I really am. A little nervous, though. I read that kids like to test substitute teachers.”

“They kinda do,” said Vanya sympathetically. “Because they know the class and the routine, but you don’t.”

Luther bobbed his head. “I’m still the adult in the room. So whatever we’re talking about, I have to tell myself that whatever it is they’re talking about, I’m the one in the room who knows the most.”

Five muttered, “Not likely” into his scotch, and Vanya kicked him in the shin. He wanted bend her over the counter and— 

_ Patience, you fuck.  _

By the time Allison and Klaus wandered in, Vanya was mostly drunk. She’d plunked herself down on the floor in front of the oven and occasionally peered in, checking to make sure she wasn’t burning the biscuits. Luther had gone pink in the face, and Five was willing to admit that his current body had a three-drink hard limit. 

“Looks like fun,” said Allison with a raised eyebrow, taking in the empty wine bottles and the roast resting on the counter. 

“How was work?” asked Luther, immediately turning to her. Their biggest brother was such a sap.

Allison hooked her purse over the back of her chair and slumped into it, kicking off her shoes as she did. “It was really productive, but some of those rich ladies are  _ awful.” _

“You used to be one of those rich ladies,” said Diego, breezing into the kitchen and grabbing a mostly empty bottle of wine off the counter as he did. 

“I would never have treated one of my hair and makeup assistants like that!” said Allison hotly. “They talk right over my head like I’m not even there.”

Diego raised an eyebrow and took a swig from the wine bottle. Five appreciated the efficiency of his choice. 

Klaus was hovering over the roast, taking in deep breaths through his nose. 

“When can we eat?” he asked. “This smells… beautiful.”

“Soon,” said Vanya, still on the floor in front of the stove. “We have forty five seconds left.”

“One of you could set the table,” said Five from his perch on the counter.

Klaus found the plates, Diego managed the silverware, and within five minutes they were sitting down to dinner as a family. Luther and Diego were at opposite ends of the table, and the others were ranged in the middle. 

“I’ve got an announcement,” said Luther happily. “I start as a long-term sub on Monday!”

“That’s great!” said Allison. 

Simultaneously, Diego raised his water glass to his lips and mumbled, “I always knew you liked to take it instead of deal it.”

Klaus snorted, Vanya looked confused, and Five… he loved this group of idiots. They were his idiots, so no one else could touch them. 

“It’s in the garden district, so it’ll be a commute, but it should be good experience, I think.”

“Experience for what?” asked Klaus. “I thought these were just like, temporary until we can get out of here. Right?”

Everyone turned to look at Five. 

He cleared his throat and set down his fork. “I’m working on that,” he said. “The math is starting to come together, and my deal with the Commission is holding. Hopefully in the next month.”

It was Diego who finally said it. “No offense man, but what if we never get back? Or what if this next place you drop us is even worse?”

“I won’t be. I’ve got a briefcase, and—”

“You have a briefcase and you didn’t tell us?” Allison asked. 

Before Five could tell them that the last time he’d told them the plan they’d all opted out of meeting in the Arrival Alley circa 1963, there was a soft pop, a flash of light, and Lila was standing in the middle of the kitchen flipping a knife around her fingers. 

“Oh good, dinner,” she said, yanking out the chair next to Diego and sliding his plate away from him and in front of her. 

“Get your own plate,” he said, yanking it back. 

Klaus took a sip of kombucha and moved his own plate away from the battleground. “Get her own plate? Last time we saw her she was trying to kill us.”

“That was my  _ mother,” _ said Lila, narrowly missing impaling Diego with his own fork. 

Five decided to solve this problem by jumping to the cabinet, grabbing a plate, and jumping back to smack Lila over the head with it. 

“Hey!” she said, turning and glaring at him. “You’re no fun, old man.”

“Yeah?” asked Five, sitting back down by Vanya. “You should be thankful I’m not trying to kill you.”

Lila plunked a spoonful of roast, potatoes, and carrots onto her plate. With a mouthful of biscuit she asked, “And why aren’t you? Afraid you won’t be able to cheat this time?” 

“You’re the one who threw a frying pan!” Five snarled. 

Diego put up a hand. “Stop,” he said. “Lila, why are you even here?”

She stopped chewing long enough to look around the table and say, “It’s date night. People have dinner on date night. And you’re like, family right?”

Diego’s face went red and Lila was quick to add, “Very distant family. Besides, I was trying to give you time to settle in!”

“Slunk off to lick your wounds, more like,” muttered Five. 

“Who kicked whose ass?” Lila demanded, pointing her knife at Five. 

Vanya went stiff next to him, and Five realized the salt and pepper shakers had begun to float off the table.

“You want something, don’t you?” Allison asked, glaring at Lila. 

“No,” said Lila, with a mouthful of food. “Well, dinner, obviously. But I just wanted to spend some time with my boyfriend.”

“This is weirdly cute,” said Klaus, leaning back in his seat. “Two knife wielding sociopaths. Oh, we’ve got the matched set!”

Lila sent him a thumbs up. 

Allison sighed, and rubbed her temple. “Well, I guess I might as well say it now. I’m pregnant. More than three months in. I’m keeping it, obviously.”

“Congratulations,” said Five, genuinely happy for her. Motherhood suited Allison, and in a strange way, she was the best of them. She’d worked on getting better, on unpacking all the land mines Reginald had built into their psyche. He hoped she was happy. 

(Though Five didn’t give a shit about improving himself. He liked himself, liked knowing exactly what he was capable of. And if Vanya liked him, that was plenty good enough.)

“What?” Diego yelped. 

“Oh my god,” said Lila, smiling almost gleefully. “It’s yours, isn’t it?” she asked, pointing at Luther. 

The ends of his ears went red. “Hey!”

“How long have we been here?” Klaus asked, counting on his fingers. “This time travel stuff really messes with your Circadian rhythms, let me tell you. I don’t think we’ve been here long enough for it to be Luther’s, right?” 

“Why is everyone assuming it’s Luther’s?” asked Allison, exasperated. “I was married!”

“Yeah, but… I mean, it’s always been you and Luther,” said Diego. 

“Why don’t we just let her talk?” said Vanya quietly. 

“Thank you, Vanya,” said Allison pointedly. 

“Do you think it’ll come out with armhair?” asked Lila, looking speculatively at Luther. 

“I had a vasectomy!” he bellowed. “Alright? So it’s not mine. Never will be. Is that what you all wanted to know?” 

A tense, unhappy silence fell in the kitchen. “I’m sorry, dude,” said Klaus quietly. 

Allison was looking up at Luther, and her expression was as open and unguarded as Five had ever seen it. She looked proud, but also heartbroken.  _ She loved him,  _ Five realized.  _ Really, truly loved him.  _

He’d seen so little love over all his long years. Fear was something he could identify at twenty yards. Anger, annoyance, clever manipulation. All of them were as familiar as his own face— his  _ old  _ face— in the mirror. 

But love? No. That was almost entirely foreign to him. 

“I had the— the procedure done just before I went to the moon.”

“Gotta watch out for aliens,” said Klaus, nodding. “Knock one of them up and you end up with… well, us, probably. Who knows.”

Luther gave Klaus a scornful look that could have peeled paint. “No. I just… I slept better, after. Knowing that this DNA ended with me. That there wasn’t any risk, if I ever, ah. Found someone.”

“I’m really sorry,” said Vanya. “But it sounds like you were really brave.”

Luther gave her a sad little smile. “Thanks. So uh, yeah. This kid isn’t mine.”

“It’s Raymond’s,” said Allison quietly. 

“We’re going to be uncles!” said Klaus. 

“You already were,” said Allison, exasperated. 

“I’m not going to be an uncle,” said Vanya impishly. Five couldn’t help it, he rested his arm across the back of her chair and ran his fingers over the back of her neck.  _ Fuck,  _ but he couldn’t wait for Tammy to have everything prepped for the aging process. 

“Who? Oh, Claire, right. It’s not like we ever got to meet her!”

“You will,” said Allison, setting her chin. “We’ll get back to the right timeline, and you’ll get to see her. It’ll work out.”

“It will,” said Five. He’d make sure of it.


	7. Hit and Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Previously on Foundations_  
>  Five comes back from the Commission and finds Vanya practicing with her powers. They go on a date to the aquarium then go back home to make dinner, which Lila crashes to amazingly chaotic results. Allison discloses her pregnancy, and Luther blurts out that he's had a vasectomy. Also, Five is so fucking horny that we all felt guilty about it. (Especially the author.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IN WHICH WE FINALLY EARN THE E RATING!

You were just a little stowaway  
That stabbed her way to save herself  
You always liked the taste of blood  
And I get off when I point the gun  
It's so good to have someone to be so bad with.  
\--Lolo

* * *

Monday morning found Five gone again, Allison and Luther at work, and Diego and Vanya alone in the kitchen. 

“What have you been up to?” he asked, pouring a pot of coffee into his big thermos. “When you aren’t pining for Five.”

Vanya eyed him carefully. He always had a couple knives hidden on him, but he didn’t look to be in too bad of a mood. “Writing,” she said. 

Diego turned slowly, like a music box winding down. “Writing what?” 

“A book,” said Vanya, jerking her chin into the air. He’d been acting… well, like a  _ brother  _ recently, but if he was going to be a dick about this, she’d like to know that now. 

“About what?” 

Vanya relaxed a little bit. “Fale memories. It’s all stupid make-believe, but at least it’s giving me something to do. It feels nice to be making something again, even if… well. If it isn’t music.” 

“It doesn’t sound stupid,” said Diego, sealing the thermos and grabbing a couple granola bars out of the cabinet. “It sounds like one of those noir movies that come out around Halloween, you know? With the gritty neon signs flickering.”

Vanya blinked. “Yeah. That’s… exactly what I’m going for.”

Diego started to head out of the kitchen and then turned slowly, giving Vanya a speculative look. “You wanna come with me today?” he asked. “Put all that training to use?” 

“Sure,” said Vanya, surprised into giving an immediate answer. 

Twenty minutes later she and Diego were up on the roof of a low three-story apartment building on the edge of the theater district. The thermos was steaming between them, and the initial rush of morning foot traffic had died down. 

“Who are we looking for?” asked Vanya, tipping her face up towards the sun. April had given way to May, and little hints of summer were in the air. 

“Grayson Andrews. Wanted for attempted murder, arson, and a bunch of other charges.”

“How did he even get bail?” Vanya asked, peering over Diego’s shoulder at the file he’d opened in his lap. 

“Some of his ‘brothers’ bailed him out. When I called around some of his old acquaintances said he used to hole up with a couple friends in that building.” He gestured across the alley to the identical apartment building. “We’re going to sit here and wait until we think he’s inside. Then I can bust in, do my thing, and take him down to the station to get rebooked. His bail was set for 

“So I’m really just here to keep you company?” Vanya asked. 

Diego nudged her shoulder with his. “I wouldn’t have brought you at all if I didn’t think you could handle yourself. You never know what’s going to happen.”

Vanya wasn’t particularly interested in the hero business, so she wasn’t as insulted as she would have been, once upon a time. In a deeply ironic turn of fate, she’d be fine with keeping a lid on her powers and living the most normal life that she could for the rest of her days. 

“You really like this bounty thing, don’t you?” 

“Hell yeah I do,” he said, pouring coffee into the thermos lid and taking a swig. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier. Bail bonds agents have more leeway than the cops do— shit, I can break into the felon’s houses if I think my perp is inside— and I’m still putting bad guys away. It’s a win-win.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” said Vanya, looking at the still-closed curtains across the alley before watching a tall lady walk her dog down on the street below. “How were things with Lila?” 

Diego gave her a skeptical look. “Is this about Thursday night?” 

“No.”  _ Yes.  _

“I told you all, she thought the lamp cord was the phone charger and accidentally pulled it out of the wall.”

“So that’s why there was glass all over the floor?” 

“Things with Lila are fine,” said Diego sternly. 

“When are you going to see her again?” 

He shrugged. “When she turns up. I think she’s working through some things.”

“Yeah. I mean, at least we knew Dad sucked the whole time. She seemed to really like her mom.”

“I wonder what that’s like,” muttered Diego.

“She’s still working for the Commission?” 

“Yeah. One of their last few field agents, apparently.”

“Are you sure we can trust her?” Diego just gave her a scornful look. 

They sat in the sun for another few minutes when Vanya saw the curtains finally sway in Andrews’ window. “Look!” she said, but Diego was already up and moving down the fire escape. 

“Stay there!” he yelled, dropping the last few feet to the alley below. 

Vanya picked up his binoculars and fixed them on the apartment window, her heart pounding and her throat tight. She’d felt like this before when the Academy had been sent on missions, but at least then they’d had each other. Now it was just Diego, alone, against this murderous nutcase. And what if there were more people in there?

She didn’t have to wonder for long. Even across the alley, up on the roof, she could hear shouting and two distinct gunshots. Vanya could already feel power gathering high in her chest, burning under her breastbone, but what could she actually  _ do?  _

That question was answered when Diego flew out of the apartment window in a shower of class and debris. He hit the firescape, grappled for it, and— 

“No!” Vanya yelled, watching as Diego lost his grip and began to fall towards the pavement below. She reacted without thinking, reaching for the power she’d been using in her training. She’d caught falling objects before, hadn’t she? They just hadn’t been her brother. 

About ten feet from the ground Diego abruptly stopped falling. Vanya had to concentrate on this part; she didn’t want to set him down on his head, but then he was on his feet and staring up at her with his mouth open. “Nice one,” he said. 

Vanya didn’t have time to thank him. “Above you!” 

Three guys had come out of the apartment’s broken window and were huddled on the fire escape. Two of them had their guns pointed at her, and their felon was aiming at Diego. 

They fired. Vanya threw up a shield, catching their bullets in midair as Diego redirected the ones aimed at him into the dumpster. 

“Fuck!” one of the shooters yelled. 

Diego stayed in the alley, clearly not sure what to do. If he went around the front to get back in the apartment the shooters would just run down the fire escape. If he jumped back up onto it, they’d shoot him. 

Vanya solved his problem by ripping the fire escape out of the building. Steel shrieked as four foot rebar spikes came loose from the brick, and the noise was joined by the screams of the men clinging to the fire escape railings. All of it fed into Vanya’s control: it was a little bit finicky, but she got the fire escape out of the building without totally damaging the walls, and she lowered the whole structure enough that it wouldn’t kill the guys clinging to it desperately. 

Diego backed away as Vanya let the fire escape fall. It wasn’t far, but the top of the structure did come careening wildly down to the ground, tossing the perps down to the asphalt. They lay there winded and stunned long enough for Diego to kick away their guns and cinch zip ties around their wrists. 

“Can you get down?” he called up to Vanya. 

She realized that she was crouched on the very edge of the roof looking down at the alley below. Technically she could fly herself down there, but all the noise had attracted attention. People were peering out of their windows and gathering on the street. “Yeah,” Vanya called back. “Be down in a bit.”

She stuffed Diego’s files and thermos into his backpack, shouldered it, and then carefully headed down the fire escape of her building. 

“We can only take in the one guy,” said Diego, standing next to the still-prone form of Grayson Andrews. He showed a local beat cop the bail file, who frowned but nodded. “Lucky break about that fire escape. These things are rusted all over the city.”

Diego nodded. “Lucky for me. Not so much for them.”

Diego perp-walked Andrews over to his used Ford Escape, shoving him roughly in the backseat. “I’ve got to get him down to the station. You good to get yourself home?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Yeah,” she repeated, a little more convincingly. The initial shock was beginning to wear off, and elation was taking its place.  _ She’d done it.  _ She’d saved Diego, made sure he got the bad guy, and hadn’t killed anyone. 

“That was amazing,” said Diego, pulling her in for a quick one-armed hugged. “We’ll have to celebrate and tell the others later. Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” she agreed, stepping back onto the sidewalk as Diego hopped into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition over. “See you later.”

The walk home didn’t cool Vanya off at all. If anything she was wound even more tightly than before. She felt like her skin was too tight, like she was so full of energy she could feel it in her teeth. Every so often she would glance down to check her chest, to make sure she hadn’t gone supernova while she wasn’t looking. 

But she wasn’t glowing with her powers. She was just her: plain old Vanya. 

The itch under her skin was nearly unbearable when she let herself into the brownstone. She felt like she needed to run until her lungs burned for air, she felt like she needed to hit something, she needed to sing or scream or cry. She felt like Tchaikovsky: bold and ebullient and loud and complicated. 

She had the house to herself. Nobody would be here to give her cautious looks if she put on music and sang to herself in the shower. Maybe that would take off the edge, could quiet the energy that still buzzed in her stomach and fizzed along her limbs. 

When she climbed up to the second floor, the light was on in the library. She thought nothing of it, merely trotted down the glossy hardwood to go shut it off before climbing up to the fourth floor and her shower, but— 

“Five?” she whispered. 

Five— if it even was Five— was standing with his broad back to her, palms flat on the desk as he braced himself over it, studying something. 

The figure slowly straightened and turned to face her. 

“Hello, Vanya.”

He was tall, taller than all of them but Luther. His hair was still dark and thick, but grey glinted at his temples. He looked older than she did, but that was stupid. Everyone looked older than she did; she was still routinely carded when she went out for the occasional bottle of whiskey. 

His shoulders were broad and clothed in a soft-looking, pale-grey sweater. His hips were narrow, and his hands— Vanya swallowed hard. Those were still Five’s long, elegant hands. They looked more suited to piano sonatas than violence, but time had weathered them. Still golden, but she could see a few veins snaking over his forearms and down to his fingers, and for the first time it finally clicked that with all his posturing, with all his skill and lethality and lack of remorse,  _ Five could hurt her.  _

He’d hurt plenty of others. 

Vanya slowly pulled her eyes back up to his face. His jaw was sharper, his lips a little less pink, but his eyes… those were timeless, and his alone. Green and sharp, like broken glass: capable of slicing her to ribbons in the best way. 

He could hurt her. But he wouldn’t, and she knew it. Like ivy twining its way through the brick and mortar foundations of her life the knowledge grew, filling up the space inside her: winding around her organs and bubbling in her veins and stealing the very air from her lungs. 

This was Five, and he’d never hurt her. This was Five, and she wanted him.

It was Five, and he wanted her too. 

~~~

Five had come back  _ wrong.  _

Oh, nothing hurt in this body. His muscle tone was perfect, his reflexes were sharp, and his endurance was better than it had ever been in his previous lifetime. This was what his body would have been if he’d just swallowed his pride and stayed home; if he’d never suffered from malnutrition and vitamin deficiencies. 

Like the doctor had said: it was all him, but aged-up and amplified. 

This body, this new iteration of himself, wanted Vanya with a ferocity that surprised even him. He’d heard her little gasp and his instincts had tingled.  _ Mate,  _ they told him.  _ Soft, and near, and yours.  _

Looking at her was even worse because she’d always had a face that expressed her every thought and worry and want, and oh, she wanted him. He’d wanted to preen as she’d looked him slowly over, top to bottom.  _ Let her look,  _ that dark part of his mind told him.  _ You’ll look your fill of her later, splayed out and open for you.  _ Vanya’s eyes were dilated, her lips were moist and slightly parted, and her little fingers had clenched tightly around the edge of her soft tee. 

He wanted to cross the space between them, wrap her ponytail around his fist, and yank her face back so he could kiss her more thoroughly.

Five watched as her pulse fluttered in the delicate contour of her throat. 

“Have you been good?” Five asked, taking in her stretchy workout leggings and heavy black boots. 

Vanya nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. 

“I missed you,” she said, her voice high and breathy. 

Five threw caution to the wind. Caution was for other people, anyway: men who couldn’t plan or pick up on the screamingly-loud subtext of body language. Caution was for people that weren’t  _ him _ . 

“Then come here,” he said, leaning against the back of the couch and giving her a smirking jerk of his head, a little gesture of  _ well, come on then _ . 

Vanya took one slow step towards him, and then another, before closing the gap at a run; hurtling into his arms and stretching up on her toes for a kiss. He smiled at the little noises she made when he bent her back to kiss her properly, and slowly slid his hand down her smooth back to the curve of her ass so he could pull her more tightly against him. 

It was a kiss forty-five years in the making. It was the kiss he’d been waiting a lifetime for but hadn’t been sure he would ever get. He’d starved for this kiss, had gone through deprivation and seas of blood for it, and he wasn’t about to let it end too soon. Vanya’s mouth was soft under his, her breath was coming in sharp little pants, and he could feel her slim fingers digging into his shoulders. 

Five bit her bottom lip, and the kiss deepend. She gasped, sucking the air right from his body, and Five wanted her to take it. He wanted to sustain her the way the hope of her had long sustained him; he wanted to subsume her being and keep her with him always. 

He wanted to kiss her until he ran out of oxygen, or the world ended all over again. 

When Vanya finally pulled away, gasping for air, Five didn’t take his face from hers. He scraped his teeth over her sharp jaw and licked his way to the soft, shadowed place just behind her ear. He sucked a hickey over her pulse and thrilled at the way her head lolled back into his waiting palm, all gentle and pliant and breathless. 

Needy, just for him. 

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he said, sucking another bruise over her collarbone. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to touch you the way I should have been all along. But that  _ fucking decimal,” _ he growled, giving Vanya just enough space that he could yank her tee up and off. “I was stuck so close to you,  _ smelling you,  _ in that wrong fucking body.”

Vanya’s eyes were blown wide with lust, her cheeks were pink, and her fingers were clenching and unclenching in his sweater like she wasn’t sure what she wanted to touch first. “I tried not to think of you,” she said, shivering a little as Five roughly cupped her breast through the thin material of her sports bra. “When I touched myself. You weren’t in the right body, and it was wrong, but…”

She blushed, and looked down at the floor. 

Five grabbed her chin, tipped her face up to him, and kissed her again. He had one hand fisted in her hair, pulling hard enough to cause the right kind of ache, and the other was worrying her hard little nipple.  _ “Fuck,”  _ he grunted, breaking the kiss long enough to tug the elastic of her sports bra over her head. “You’ve been up in that little twin bed in the attic with your fingers in this sweet, hungry cunt. And you’ve been thinking of me.”

“It’s always been you!” said Vanya, the pitch of her voice rising higher and higher as Five pulled a nipple between his teeth and sucked, hard. Of course Vanya was like him: pleasure was nothing without a little bit of pain to go along with it. 

“Are you wet now?” he asked, yanking one of her hands to the fly of his trousers where his erection throbbed with painful furor. “Because this is for you. Answer me, Vanya,” he said, tightly pinching her other nipple. 

She arched, panting, into his hand. “Yes,” she gasped, wriggling against him. “I’m wet, Five. I’ve been  _ wanting  _ you, and I had to  _ wait.”  _

For one long second Five considered making her wait even longer. He could tell her what it had done to realize that she would fight him over the dubious bedroom skills of some rural housewife; that she’d turned to Harold fucking Jenkins for comfort before she and the timeline had blown all to pieces. He considered letting her feel the longing that he’d been carrying for the last forty-five years, but this was Vanya. This girl was  _ his,  _ and she hadn’t known any better. 

(Going forward… going forward his rules would be clear.)

“Good girl,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, and then he drug her down to the library floor. 

She was so little underneath him; it was nearly effortless to kick open her legs and to pin one of her thighs open with his own knee. She panted up at him as he kneeled over, marveling at the miracle that was Vanya splayed soft and open beneath him. She was pale, nearly translucent. Pretty blue veins curled around the underside of her breasts and along the concave slope of her hips, and Five wanted to trace them with his tongue; to caress her skin and pretend he could feel the blood pounding beneath. 

Vanya’s hands went to his belt, and any thought that Five had had of savoring her scattered on the wind. “Patience,” he said, knocking her hands away. 

“I want to  _ see you,”  _ she said, her eyes lust-blown and desperate. 

“What do you say?” Five asked, kneading one of her small, high breasts even as he kept his gaze focused on her face. He knew he was pushing his luck, but god fucking dammit he’d waited so long for her, and he wanted all of this, all of  _ her,  _ just as soon as he could have it.

Annoyance at his high-handedness flickered over her delicate features, followed by uncertainty, and then, finally, a rising tide of lust. “Please?” she said. 

Still propped between her legs with one of his knees leaving a bruise on the inside of her thigh, Five leaned forward to kick her quick and hard, nipping her bottom lip before he reared back and yanked his sweater off from over his head. His undershirt was next, and then Vanya was reaching for him again. She didn’t say anything, but the noise she made at the back of her throat didn’t need translating. 

Her little nails combed through the hair on his chest, scraped lightly over one his nipples, and wandered towards his belt once more. Five caught her hands in his and leaned over her, pinning her wrists to the floor beside her head. “One day,” he said, enunciating precisely, “I am going to teach you patience. I’m going to keep my hand or my mouth at your cunt until you’re begging for my cock, and then I still won’t give it to you. Not until your pussy cries the way you will.”

Vanya whimpered, and pressed against the weight of him on her wrists. She didn’t look like she wanted to get away from him, oh no, not his girl. She wanted to get closer. 

“This is where you want me?” Five asked, leaning down to suck her nipple while he ran the first two fingers of his left hand through her damp folds, exploring the peach-soft flesh inside. Her hips rolled after his hand, chasing her pleasure, and Five could very nearly have been content with this: Vanya’s slick on his fingers, the warm scent of her filling his nose, and her little whispers of need ringing in his ears. Her circled her clit lightly, teasingly, and then roughly thrust both fingers into her soft cunny, making her rock with the impact of his knuckles.

“Please fuck me,” she whispered, arching against him as well as she could, pinned as she was beneath his hands and knee and body. 

Five’s mouth quirked up. “You’re so fucking polite,” he told her, cruising the tip of his nose along one of the delicate wings of her collarbone. “How could I say no. Keep your hands where they are,” he commanded, undoing his belt and reaching around for the condom he’d tucked into his back pocket. 

“Please, please, please,” Vanya was mumbling to herself, her face pink and pinched. “I have an IUD, just fuck me,  _ please.” _

Five lightly slapped her hip and then closed his eyes against the wave of absolute  _ need  _ that rocked through him like a shockwave. He’d been prepared for the condoms, to do the right fucking thing, but at the idea of fucking her bare and leaving a little bit of himself inside when this was through? He squeezed the base of his cock too tightly, using the pain to bring him back to himself. He’d never been this turned on, not once in his life. His cock hurt with how hard it was, his balls felt like they’d visibly swollen, and with every arousal-scented breath Five took he could feel his own need spiraling tighter and tighter within him. She was begging. She was begging for  _ him. _

“I’ve been imagining this for a lifetime,” said Five, rocking his cock against her folds. She was hot and slick, and he had to grit his teeth and brace himself over her, concentrating on her expression, her little pants, anything but his own painful need to come. Her hips hitched each time the head of his cock brushed over her clit, and it was so needy and instinctual and perfect. 

“Me too,” said Vanya, blushing even as her hands flew up to grip his shoulders. “I used to— ooof,” she moaned, low and guttural, as Five slid himself home inside her. 

Jesus fucking christ she was tight. Five had to hold himself still and stop breathing for a moment, just savoring the feeling of finally being fully hilted inside Vanya’s clenching wet heat. Home. That’s what this cunt was, that’s what  _ she  _ was. The only home he’d ever wanted, and the only place he’d ever missed. 

Vanya’s nails dug into his shoulders, and she arched against him, hooking one leg low over his waist and fucking herself up onto him. 

Five couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He was as incapable of stopping himself from fucking her as he’d been to stop the end of the world. The source of both of those weaknesses lay beneath him, thrusting up to meet him and clinging to his shoulders, and Five lowered his forehead to her throat and started thrusting properly. 

Vanya  _ oofed  _ like his cock was up in her lungs, driving out all her air, and Five loved it for all of its depravity. Her breath was coming in hot pants against the skin of his shoulder, the room was filled with the soft sucking sounds of her cunt around his cock, and Five’s entire being was hyperfocused on Vanya: the clench of her pussy, her gasped little breaths, the scrabble of her hands along his back and waist. 

Five worried the skin where her neck curved into her shoulder, aware enough to realize that she deserved better from him; that he was fucking her like an animal, rutting her roughly across the ground. He knew it, but that didn’t mean he was prepared to stop. Her thighs were trembling around his waist, her mouth was open and pink and panting, and her eyes were wild and desperate and focused on him, like only he could fix the mess in which she’d found herself. 

Five braced himself on one forearm, sucked a messy kiss into her throat, and wedged one hand between them, and started messily thumbing at her clit. The angle didn’t work, and she was so fucked out and wet that he couldn’t keep pressure on her, but that didn’t seem to matter to Vanya. Her fingernails had to be drawing blood at this point (his mate was as fierce and fucked as he was), she’d thrown back her head, and he could feel her heels digging into the small of his back, arching her even more tightly to his body. 

And then she came, her breath keening out of her mouth and her body going tense against him. Her cunt was rippling around him so tightly that Five had to lean into it to keep her from forcing him out. She was flushed and sweaty and shaking and more beautiful than he had ever seen her because he had done this to her, he’d brought her to a shaking, mewling orgasm, and even though he hadn’t been the first to get his hands on her, he was damn well going to be the last. 

_ His.  _

When Vanya went limp beneath him Five wasted no more time. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured, hunching up enough to place a gentle kiss on her parted lips. Then he slid his forearms under her shoulders, settled his weight against her tiny body, and began to move in earnest. He could finally allow himself to think about how wet she was, how her cunt sucked as his cock on the backstroke, how this was  _ Vanya,  _ his sister, the only woman he’d wanted enough to keep fighting for. He felt like he was going mad, consumed by her, and that was just the way it should be. 

This cunt was  _ his.  _ She was his, even if she hadn’t realized it yet. She’d learn. 

“Five,” said Vanya softly, arching up to kiss at his sweaty throat. (He loved that he could cage her in, split her open on his cock, move her like a little doll, but a foot of height difference made it difficult to kiss when he was over her like this.) That soft brush of lips, his name, her affection. 

Five was lost. 

He came like it had been a year, with his lungs heaving and his balls drawn up tight to his body. He rammed himself as deep into her as he could get, determined to leave a little of himself behind, welcoming the buzzing in his ears and the lax satiation that stole through his bones. 

When he pushed himself up on trembling arms, Vanya gave him the shyest little smile. 

“Good?” Five asked. The soft part of him (the part that had always belonged to Vanya) wanted to ask if he’d hurt her. The rest of him didn’t care: he hoped she’d feel a delicious, secret ache while she walked around for the rest of the day. She’d think of him as she did it. 

“Good,” said Vanya, stretching languorously beneath him. 

“Only good?” Five asked, finally sliding his softening cock out of her slick heat. He knelt back between her splayed thighs and watched as his cum slowly leaked out of her, mixing with her own clear slick. “I’ll have to do better.”

She shivered as he grabbed his discarded undershirt and held it against her cunt. “Sensitive?” he asked, pressing just a little harder. 

Vanya nodded again, blushing beautifully. 

“Is this okay?” Five asked, refolding the shirt and swiping it slowly along her cunny. 

Vanya shuddered, and Five watched in fascination as the movement rippled through her body: her taut belly, her small, high breasts, her narrow shoulders and long, slender throat. He did it again, lingering with the soft cotton over her clit. 

“Five,” said Vanya, half aroused and half scandalized. 

He grinned, and watched her sleepy eyes dilate at the sight of it. Oh, she may be able to hide it more effectively, but he knew her. He’d made knowing her his business, and she still wanted him. She liked what he did to her, and she liked that he didn’t bother to ask permission. 

Five tossed the shirt away and replaced it with his fingers, lightly trailing them along her damp seam and over her still-swollen clit. “Your little cunt needs me,” he told her seriously. “Doesn’t it, Vanya? You’ve neglected her long enough, but it’s alright. I’m back now.”

And he wasn’t leaving. 

Vanya’s hips hitched against his hand when he began to circle her clit more firmly, holding her thigh back and open with his other hand. “Too much,” she gasped, her hands twitching at her sides as though she was thinking of batting him away. 

“No,” said Five gently, repositioning himself so that he was laying on his belly between her splayed thighs. 

When he leaned in and swiped the flat of his tongue up her cunny, Vanya keened, and wriggled back. 

“No,” said Five again, dropping a kiss over her pubic bone. “You said you were good, Vanya. I think we can do better.”

She moaned, loud and long, when he opened his mouth and began slowly tonguing her clit back and forth and back and forth. It was the loudest she’d been, his shy little girl, and Five took a mental note. She needed stimulation, his girl, and if she wasn’t addicted to his mouth by the end of the afternoon, he didn’t deserve it. 

He studied her when he replaced his mouth with his fingers. The taste of them, salty and earthy and warm, lingered in his mouth, and he smiled at the way Vanya’s hands were splayed on the carpet beside her. “You have a beautiful pussy,” he told her, giving her clit a kitten lick. She shuddered and moaned again, high and thready. 

“Are you going to come for me?” Five asked, sliding two fingers into her plush, swollen heat. He wouldn’t fingers her (well, not too much), but he’d give her something to clench around. 

Vanya shook her head, mussing her already sex-wrecked hair. 

“Hmmm,” said Five, worrying her clit between his lips for a few moments. “I don’t think that’s right. I think you can come again.”

Vanya whimpered, and Five pressed his smirk to her cunt. He started licking her again, already wondering what she would do if he took her out somewhere and told her how much he couldn’t wait to take her home and make her come on his cock. Would she let him finger her under the tablecloth? Would her little face go pink as her eyes went glassy? He couldn’t wait to find out. 

When Vanya’s hips tentatively rocked against his face, Five growled his approval into her cunt, letting her feel it in her pussy and the calves that she’d draped over his back. She gasped, and he felt her go even wetter around his fingers. 

Five didn’t let up: he kept his mouth on her clit and drove her up ruthlessly, ignoring the way her heels dug into his ribs and all the high whimpers that filled the room. He knew exactly what he was doing. When her thighs began to tremble he shifted, splaying his free hand over her belly to keep her pinned in place, his to do with as he pleased. 

His face was wet from the nose down, all he could smell was the autumn-earth musk of her, and this was where he wanted to live and die: consumed in Vanya. 

The muscles in her belly started to contract under his hand, pulling tighter and tighter, and Five pressed his face even more firmly against her, grinding his resurrecting cock against the floor. He wanted to order her to come, to start associating the rasp of his voice with her own pleasure, but his mouth was occupied with her. 

He’d kept his fingers still inside her, not willing to overtire her pussy first go-round, but now he bent them up, dragging the blunt tips of his fingers back and forth along the top wall of her cunt, and with a twist of his lips and the pressure of his fingers Vanya came  _ hard.  _

He had to press down hard on her belly to keep her back on the ground so he could work her through it. Her breaths sounded like sobs, her pussy was clenching around his fingers like a vise, and her whole body trembled against his. 

Five had held lives in his hands. He preferred the heat and life of Vanya. 

When her feet scrambled at him with a new level of desperation, desperate to get away from the stimulation, Five disengaged his fingers from her cunt and slid up to rest his sticky face on her naked belly. 

“I never imagined,” said Vanya quietly, slowly dragging her fingers through his hair. It felt lovely, and Five resisted the instinct to order her to do it again. 

“Never imagined what?” Five asked. 

“That it could be like that.”

Five grinned, and dropped a quick kiss to the soft skin of her belly. Vanya resumed stroking his hair, gently scraping her nails over his scalp. Maybe now she’d see how foolish it was that she’d been willing to fight him over some housewife’s uninspired pussy. 

It didn’t matter now. Five wrapped his arms more tightly around Vanya and breathed in the scent of her deodorant and arousal and skin. Nothing that came before mattered anymore, because he was finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there :) 
> 
> I wanted to update the end notes here to let you know that I'm permanently abandoning this fic. I'm incredibly busy, and it feels strange for me to write about Elliot Page knowing that I'm misgendering them. I had so much fun writing this story, and I hope you enjoyed reading it!


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